Forget-Me-Not
by ddp456
Summary: Wendy mysteriously disappears, and a broken and distraught Dipper seems to be the only one who cares. The world believes she ran off with Robbie, and shortly, forgets about the missing redhead. Further searching leads Dipper on the path of a supposedly haunted house where teenagers are always welcomed, but are never allowed to leave...Thx for reading/reviewing/faving!
1. Chapter 1

"What?! _Are you scared_?"

Wendy Corduroy scoffed at her boyfriend's suggestion, "As if!" However, her feet were seemingly welded to the spot, preventing her from crossing the threshold before her. Despite her best intentions to hide it, her freckled face displayed a hint of hesitation.

Robbie V. continued to push on, "Then, what's the problem?"

The redhead rolled her eyes and rubbed her flannel-covered shoulder. A cool breeze flowing through the Oregon night sent shivers up Wendy's spine. At least that's what she hoped. "Maybe this isn't the best idea," she confessed. "Especially after everything that happened at the convenience store…"

"But this is totally different!" the goth chastised. "Besides, _we're_ not the ones that caused that mess there; _he_ was! And…" Robbie's face lightened up as he suddenly came to a realization, "That's it, isn't it?"

"What's "it?""

He flashed a small, cocky grin, "That kid, Dipper. You're afraid because he's not here with you!"

"Okay, now you're talking crazy, Robbie!" Wendy argued back.

Robbie challenged her further, "It's true, right? Tough-girl Wendy needs the little shrimp at her side in order to keep her safe from the big, bad monsters out there!"

Wendy pointed in her beau's face, "Knock it off!"

Instead, he put his hands together, puckered his lips, and battered his eyes in a mockingly girly fashion. "Oh, Dipper!" he cried out in a high-pitched, falsetto tone. "I need you! There's a tiny spider that needs to be squashed over there in the corner! It's staring at me with its eyes! Oh, my hero! What would I do without you?"

The goth chuckled to himself, only to find that his sweetheart glared at him silently with furious emerald eyes. He figured that if that didn't get a rise out of her, nothing would.

He stared to walk pass Wendy, "You know, let's forget about –"

Robbie was cut off as Wendy shot an arm straight down against the wall, blocking his exit. Still retaining her angry stare, she simply muttered, "Let's go…" Wendy brushed against Robbie and opened the door to their destination. As he went to follow at her heels, the ginger turned around and met him face-to-face.

"And for your information: spiders are _not_ a joking matter!"

As Wendy stormed inside, Robbie lowered his hood and marveled at his rejuvenated mate, "Heh…_that's my girl…"_

As the door gently shut behind them, both teenagers found themselves stunned by the sights before them. Dimly lit lights were hung up high on among the various structures placed inches below the decorative ceiling. Another worn-out door at their right appeared to lead to a sort of closet. Straight ahead, a sturdy staircase let to the second floor. Wendy compared it to the rickety one back at the Mystery Shack that led up to the twins' bedroom.

"Amazing…" she marveled at the inner structures. "It's hard to believe that this place was abandoned!"

"If you think that's something," Robbie pulled on her plaid sleeve, "Check this out!"

The duo walked side-by-side into a large parlor. One couldn't tell from the outside that it would be so spacious. Fancy, decorated carpets covered every aspect of the floor. A series of loveseats circled the room, leaving a recliner and a lounge couch tossed within the mix. Thick, blood red drapes blocked the window, allowing only a sliver of moonlight into the room. A fireplace was conveniently placed in the center of the wall. Oddly enough, not one ounce of soot could be found nearby.

"Hey!" Wendy pointed above the fireplace. "Look at that!"

A giant portrait was hung above the hearth. A grim-looking man in a long, white overcoat stood with his arms crossed alongside his chest against a blackened background. He appeared to be a thinly and pale; his dark eyes stared into its viewers' souls.

"Huh," Robbie scratched the top of his head, "That's probably the old geezer that left this place behind…"

Wendy raised an eyebrow, "Wait, what?!"

"Yeah, you never heard the story? The kook was a famous scientist or something like that. One day, he decides to stop going outside and becomes a shut-in. Very few people actually see him around. A couple of years after that, he vanishes. Doesn't answer the door. Doesn't return letters. Doesn't pick up the phone. Nothing…"

The confused girl shook her head, "I don't get it. I mean, this place isn't a mansion, but it's kinda cozy. Who would give all this up just like that?"

Robbie shrugged his shoulders in response, "I dunno. But, think about it, Wen. This place is probably a squatter's dream!"

"Do you think that's how those other stories started? The ones about the missing kids?"

Robbie jeered at her suggestion, "For all we know, those were created by some hobo to keep people away. Like that old cartoon with the talking dog? All the bad guys were really just losers in masks and cheesy outfits!"

"I guess…"

The pair went over to the couch and sat down. A small cloud of dirt shot down as their back ends hit the cushions. After a moment of awkward silence, Wendy and Robbie turned to face each other simultaneously with the same thought on their minds:

"Selfie pics?"

"Selfie pics!"

Within seconds, the teens had pulled out their phones and started taking snapshots of themselves. They each made serious and silly faces while scrunched up besides each other in an attempt to fit inside of the same frame.

Robbie's pock-filled face lit up at the sound of hearing his girlfriend's attractive giggling. "Yes!" he screamed on in the inside. He knew that this would work; that dorky twelve-year-old wasn't the only one that could take her on exciting adventures.

"See?" he asked the girl at his side. "This wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Wendy agreed. "And hey, now we've got bragging rights to say that we're the only ones that actually –"

*CRASH*

Robbie hopped up to his feet, "WHAT WAS THAT?!"

Wendy remained seated calmly on the couch, "Not sure. Probably just the house settling…"

*CRASH*

"There it is again!" He looked down at his coolly-collected partner with widen eyes, "Maybe – Maybe we should go check it out…"

Wendy had other intentions in mind, "You could if you want to," She kicked off her boots and stretched her nimble legs, wiggling her socked toes all the while, "But I'm feeling quite comfy right where I am."

"What?! You're not coming with me?"

"Nope…" the ginger sunk deeper into the cushioning. "Besides," she teased with a mischievous smile, "_Dipper_ wouldn't have to have me hold his hand to go exploring…"

A surge of rage overcame the outraged goth, "You're going to compare _me_ to that little –" He stopped in his tracks, and took a second to calm himself. "Fine!" he finally gave in, and turned towards the source of the noise.

Once Robbie left the room, Wendy took full advantage of the opportunity. She placed her legs up on the other arm of the couch. She leaned her head back onto the left one, taking a second or two to wiggle around to become comfortable. With a hint of pride, she flicked her trademark trapper hat, allowing it to drape down over her face.

"Sucker…" the spunky teen whispered to herself as she enjoyed the recently-established leg room.

* * *

Robbie crept back into the entrance of the house. He could have sworn that he heard the noise stemming from that direction.

"Hello?" he called out. "Anybody there?" The worried gothic boy received no response.

In spite of the haunting silence, Robbie continued forward, the comment Wendy made about Dipper still stinging in his mind. "Stupid kid!" he belittled under his breath. "I'll show her! I'm way braver than "junior" could ever hope to be!"

As he approached the exit, something quite off caught his eye. The closet door was left slightly opened. Robbie's heart jumped out of his chest, "That was closed when Wendy and I passed it last time…"

His eyes scanned around the room, looking for anything that could be used as a potential weapon. Due to lack of choices, Robbie settled for an old umbrella had stuck out of a holder near the front door. As he grasped the doorknob, a form of hidden nostalgia struck the adolescent hard. Robbie remembered that as a child, he was deathly afraid of his bedroom closet. The mixture of light and shadow would often play tricks on his young mind, often leaving him to believe that some sort of ghoul stalked him from within his room. It was to the point that he secretly kept a night-light on while he slept until the tender age of thirteen; something that he prayed that Wendy or the other guys would never find out about.

Robbie shook the imagery from his head. A lot had changed within the last few years. He wasn't the same, scared kid from his memories. With a bit of courage in his gut, Robbie threw open the door with a growl and raised his umbrella, "COME OUT OUTTA THERE!"

Nothing was to be seen inside the closet except for the usual expectations. A series of different colored shirts and jackets were hung up neatly onto a robust bar. Behind him, a lone grey hoodie dangled from a metal hook.

"Phew!" Robbie wiped the sweat from his brow, his adrenaline still pumping. "Nothing…Nothing to worry about…"

Suddenly, he felt something wrap around his wrist. Before Robbie knew what was happening, his arm was firmly pulled over his head, forcing him to drop his weapon. A moment later, the same thing happened with his left forearm, leaving the boy defenseless.

"What the – " Robbie looked overhead, his jaw dropping in utter horror.

The gray hoodie at his back had _come to life_. Flailing around wildly, its arms wrapped itself around the frightened goth, holding him in place.

"WEN –" Robbie went to scream for help, only to have another armless sleeve cover his mouth. His sights shot forward to see that the other shirts and jackets had sprung into being, each reaching out for the ensnared male.

Robbie tried to pull away, but the clothes had a tremendous grip on the skinny teen. "How can this be?" he asked himself. "They're not real! _They're not real_!" To make matters worse, he could feel the closet door being forced shut as it repeatedly slammed itself against his back.

_"They're trying to force me inside!"_

Robbie tried to push against the sensation, only to have more ghostly articles wrap themselves around his limbs. His cut-off sneakers dragged against the wooden floors as he was pulled deeper into the closet.

As the door shut firmly, one last muffled scream could be barely heard; a failed attempt to warn the carefree girl in the next room that the rumored danger was indeed, _real as can be_. A faint flash of light shone from beneath the crack at the bottom of the door, only to be replaced once more with peaceful accord…

* * *

From the next room, Wendy found herself drifting in and out of sleep as she awaited the return of her boyfriend. "C'mon, Robbie," she bemoaned. "What's taking so long?" She let out an exhaust of air, "He probably went to use the bathroom or something…"

As Wendy went to close her eyes again, she felt something wrap around her socked foot tangling from the end of the couch's armrest. She sat up to see that nothing but there. Puzzled, the teenaged girl went back to her original positioning on the sofa. As lethargy overtook Wendy once more, reminiscence from childhood filled her dreamscape.

The impression of having her ankle fasten reminded her of a game from memory's past. After all, she was an older sister to three troublesome little brothers. As would any other babysitter, she was expected to be found in this situation at least once. More often than naught, she would end up being the "robber" to their "cops," the "Indian" to their "cowboys," or the "secret agent" to their "interrogators."

Things would always end up with the kind-hearted sibling being tied hand and foot to either a wooden kitchen chair or the huge recliner in the living room. While held captive, Wendy would be forced to be shot at with NYARF darts, have food tossed at her, or even have her feet tickle-tortured for hours on end. Despite the annoyance of such trials, she knew that it was a small price to pay to have her brothers pre-occupied, instead of getting themselves into more serious trouble.

However, not every single time was fun and games. Usually, such instances would usually end with Wendy breaking free and wrestling each of the boys until all four Corduroys were exhausted. As they grew older (and their knot-tying improved), she discovered that freedom wouldn't be obtained quite so easily. In their cruelty, her brothers would leave her in an immobilized state as they roamed unchecked. Sometimes, her father would come home from work and find his daughter, only to shake his head in disapproval, "So, they got you again, huh?"

Through it all, a hidden fear lurked in her bottom of her heart. What if her dad never came home to her rescue? What if she was forced to remain trapped like that without any hope of escape? No meal or bathroom breaks? A sense of vulnerability formed as Wendy realized that she was completely powerless if anything was to find her in such a state.

Once more, Wendy sensed something encircling her right ankle.

"Robbie?" She called out. "Is that you?"

The feeling quickly spread to her other foot. She giggled as something brushed against her stocking sole, "Whatcha doing down there?"

As in the past, Wendy decided to give into this playful nature. She continued to keep her eyes shut as a slight breeze blew past her. An instance later, Wendy experienced the same impression against her dainty wrists.

"Ohhhh! I think I get it…" the freckled-face teen flirted with her extra-quiet boyfriend. "Am I supposed to be the damsel-in-distress, and you have to save me from the evil, scary ghosts?" Wendy threw her arms over her head, "Might as well get it over with…"

"OWW!" Wendy cried out as her restraints were abruptly pulled taut, digging painfully into her wrist and ankle skin. "Darn it, Robbie! That hurt!"

Wendy opened her green eyes to see that she was all by herself. "Robbie?" She went to sit back up, only to find herself too stretched out in order to do so. Her hands were firmly attached to the left support. The right armrest apparently held Wendy's feet in a death grip.

"Robbie, this isn't funny!" As her heart rate increased, the alarmed young adult rotated her wrists and ankles in a desperate attempt to gain some slack; all of her escape attempts were for naught.

Wendy started to hyperventilate. This was exactly like her worst nightmares. A horrid thought crossed the ginger's mind: what if Robbie did this _purposely_? What if he left her bound and exposed in a haunted house as a sick, practical joke; perhaps to get even with her over all of her comments about Dipper.

"Robbie?" Wendy coaxed, her voice rising to a nervous octane, "You win, okay? I swear, if you stop this and let me out, I'll forget about the whole thing! No kidding! It's actually quite funny when you think about it…" She let out a series of forced laughs in hopes that Robbie would buy her sincerity.

Her pleas went unanswered.

As Wendy tried to figure out what to do next, her fingers twitched against her bindings. It felt as if she had placed her digits into something sticky, similar to bubble-gum.

"What…?"

Wendy looked up to see that her manacles were actually made of a soft, pink material. After a second of studying the strange sight, she came to a horrifying conclusion: the organic substance was _pulsating_.

"Is…Is it breathing?" It began to dawn on the fifteen-year-old that her boyfriend had nothing to do with her current peril.

All of a sudden, the couch began to vibrate beneath the trapped teen. "WHOA!" The sofa rose onto its hind legs, carrying Wendy along in tow.

"What's going on?! How can this be real?!" Wendy turned around to see that two red and yellow beady eyes had formed on the cushioning just above her shoulder blades. She shrieked at the top of her lungs as they blinked at her.

A low growl came from underneath Wendy. The rightmost seat had split open, revealing rows of jagged, sharpened teeth. Goosebumps spread across her flesh as she could feel its hot breath against her bottom.

With another ear-deafening roar, the couch began to waddle its way out of the living room. Its wooden, well-furnished legs padded its way through the soft carpeting until it loudly scrapped on the barren floor of the entryway. Wendy tried to push away from the monstrous piece of furniture, but it retained its death-grip on the struggling girl.

"ROBBIE!" Wendy cried out in vain, "WHERE ARE YOU?! HELP ME, PLEASE!"

The sofa stopped in front of the closet door. Wendy's emerald eyes widened as the door threw itself open, exposing a blue, swirling portal.

"ROBBIE! ROBBIE, PLEASE!"

As the sofa brought Wendy into the portal, another bright light filled the dimly-lit room.

"AAAAHHHH!"

When the light faded, the world returned back to normal. The closet door resealed itself. A barely-audible *CLICK* insured that it would not be opened again quite so easily. The settee was returned to the parlor; all evidence of its mobility or livelihood had vanished along with the truly petrified redhead. The lingering stillness came back to the house. From the outside, a brief sound of echoing thunder boomed throughout the complex, as if it was mocking laughter. Several creaks and groans rattled throughout every nook and cranny as the dwelling welcomed its newest guests to a permanent stay…


	2. Chapter 2

"How's he doing?"

"Grunkle" Stan Pines nudged his great-niece as she hid around the corner of an open doorway. His loyal handyman, Soos, stood up at the young girl's side. His face showed the same level of genuine concern as hers did.

"Terrible!" Mabel Pines whispered as she peeked into the barely lit room. "He won't eat. He barely says two words to anybody! I couldn't tell you the last time I saw him sleep!"

Stan could do nothing but shake his head in dismay, "Did anyone try to talk to him?"

"Umm…" Soos twiddled his fingers nervously, "I would, but I don't know what…"

Mabel placed a supportive hand on his flabby shoulder, "It's okay, Soos. It's more than enough that you let him take over your break room completely!"

"To be honest," Stan attempted, rubbing the back of his grey-covered head, "I really don't know what else I can say to him. I mean, I already told him my story about Carla "Hot-Pants" McCorkle and tried to relate his "situation" to that…"

Confused, Mabel raised an eyebrow to her great-uncle, "I don't understand, Grunkle Stan. What does _that_ have to do with anything?"

The elder sighed, "…that sometimes, _loved ones are taken from your life, and there's nothing you can do about it…_"

The pint-sized twin was taken aback by his layered answer. However, she still remained determined. "Well, I'm going to try again. We can't leave him like this!"

As the two adults quietly observed, Mabel made her way past the open doorway. Immediately, a sour odor entered her nostrils, making her stomach a bit queasy.

"Phew!" She pinched her nose tightly. "_What died in here_?"

Slowly, yet surely, Mabel began to notice that the inconceivable change that the once-hidden room went through. The sunshine that shone through the incredible view had been sealed away behind darkened curtains. The only source of light stemmed from a series of small bulbs posted towards the center of the room. The once-blank walls were completely blanketed with large maps of the surrounding area, each marked with various scratches, "X's," and highlighted circles.

Mabel's brown eyes came upon the middle of the room. Where Experiment 78, the mind-switching carpet, once laid, a huge wooden table stood in its place. Every aspect was covered with spread out, recently newspaper clippings, instant snapshots of various town hotspots (which she recognized as the Tent of Telepathy, Old Man McGucket's junkyard hideaway, and Greasy's Diner, among others), and more charts of Gravity Falls. At the edge of the counter, she could spot dozens of posters, each marked at the top with the bolded heading, "MISSING!" The image of her friend, the redheaded cashier girl, was plastered on every copy.

Her slightly younger twin brother was on the opposite edge. Countless unfilled coffee containers and empty energy drink cans trailed along the floor. A land-lined attached phone sat within an arm's reach, just in case anyone called with any important clues or hints. With his back to Mabel, he peered over the table, balancing on his tip-toes on top of a stool, as he mumbled repeatedly to himself. Amazingly, the young detective went back and forth across the countless documents in a rushing multi-task, making sure to document his latest findings and theories in his journal marked with the golden, six-fingered insignia of #3.

Standing behind her brother, Mabel took a deep breath, and called out for him, "Dipper…"

He continued on with his studies, as if she wasn't there.

Despite being ignored, Mabel continued on, "So, hey there, Broseph…" She twiddled her fingers in nervousness as she tried to find the best way to address the elephant in the room, "…we wanted to stop in and see how you were holding up…"

At long last, Dipper broke the silence. He responded in a weary, almost monotonous voice, "What do you want, Mabel?"

Deciding she had nothing to lose, the brunette pressed forward, "Dipper, this needs to stop…"

"No…"

"_You_ need to stop…"

"No…"

"It's been almost a week…"

"No…"

"Wendy's…Wendy's gone, Dipper…"

"No…"

"_You_ need to let her go…"

"NO! NO! NO!" he screamed as he spun around to face his sister. Mabel gasped and jumped back at the sight before her. From the lack of sunlight, Dipper's skin had been turned a sickly pale, even more so than that of his lumberjack crush. His eyes were covered in sleep crust, darkened in a blood red. The small worrisome lines that lay dormant under his eyeballs were now purple stained bags; probably due to lack of sleep. Mabel stopped herself from gagging as she realized that _Dipper was the source_ of the stench that filled the room.

"Don't you see what's happening here?!"

"Yeah!" Mabel waved away the smell. "You need a shower! Like yesterday!"

"Wendy's in trouble, Mabel!" Dipper tried to explain. "Something's wrong! I just know there is!"

She argued back. "What about what everyone in town has been saying?"

"What about them?! They're practically wrong about everything else in Gravity Falls, and I'm supposed to believe _them_?!"

"But, what if it's true? What if…" Mabel bit her lip as she found the courage to spit out what she thought was the truth, "What if Wendy really did run off with…"

"No way…" Dipper interrupted, shaking his head repeatedly. "There's no way…"

"Dipper, you don't know that for sure!"

Surprisingly, his voice began to lower in a calmly fashion, "She wouldn't do that, Mabel. And even if she did, she would have…would have…"

"Would have what, Dipper?"

His head lowered, "She would have come to say "good-bye." She wouldn't have left without doing so…"

Again, Mabel decided to let "honesty" be the best policy, "Maybe you didn't know Wendy as well as you thought, Dipper…" However, her self-control lapsed, and she continued on, letting slip the worst possible thing she could have ever said to her broken sibling:

_"…maybe you guys weren't as close as you thought…"_

Immediately, Mabel closed her mouth with both hands as instant regret overcame her, "Dipper, I'm sorr – I didn't mean to –"

Dipper lowered his brow as he angrily stared at his absent-minded sister for a moment before turning back around to his research. He pointed to the exit, "You can go now…"

"But, Dipper!"

"You've already said enough. So, unless you're planning on helping me find her…_leave_…"

Defeated, Mabel walked back to the doorway. Before leaving, she turned back towards Dipper, "Just remember, that whenever you feel like coming back to _the real world_, me and Soos and Grunkle Stan will be waiting for you…"

As soon as the door shut, Dipper began to grumble under his breath, _"The real world…bah! _Something's going on; I just don't know what yet!" However, Mabel's words were not without any lasting affect:

_"Dipper, you don't know that for sure…maybe you guys weren't as close as you thought…"_

"I don't know…" he complained. _"Of course I know…"_ A lone tear raced down his cheek, "It's all I see every time I close my eyes…"

After a few more hours of hard-work, the invisible enemy struck at him again. Caffeine and energy boosters could only do so much. His mind started to wander. His eyelids grew heavy. He switched hands in an effort to hold up his head, but within moments, Dipper found himself face down on his work.

"No…" he whispered, as he drifted in and out of consciousness, _"Not again…"_

* * *

Dipper opened his eyes to see a shining light in front of him. He held his arm above his face in an effort to clear the blindness and make out the sight in the distance. As he narrowed his eyes, Dipper shortly discovered that he was looking into the Gift Shop of the Mystery Shack. Eerily enough, he could see himself (or what appeared to look like him) with broom in hand, sweeping up the extremely dusty wooden floor.

The puzzled boy looked to the left, and suddenly, a great weight was lifted from his shoulders. At the counter of the Gift Shop, Wendy Corduroy leaned against the worn-out structure. An excited look overcame her freckled face as her emerald eyes shifted back and forth between the watch on her wrist and the cuckoo clock mounted on the wall.

"And the work day's over…" the teenager announced loudly, with the broom-equipped Dipper counting along her, "…in 3…2…1…"

The duo cheered in union as if they were celebrating New Year's Eve.

Dipper watched as his doppelganger stowed away his broom while Wendy removed her name tag. "Quitting time!" As the redhead leapt over the counter, her friend anxiously approached her.

"Hey," the second Dipper greeted, forcing his hands into his pockets to prevent himself from shaking. "Did you – Did you feel like doing anything today…?"

Wendy raised an eyebrow to his invitation, "Like what?"

"I mean, like something fun…_together_?" He elaborated, "You know, like pigging out on junk food, catching a bad movie marathon, messing with Stan's old 8-bit game system? Those kinds of things…?"

She raised a hand to her chin, a dimpled smile slowly spreading, "That actually sounds really…_nice_. And relaxing, especially after the day we've had…"

Dipper nodded and forced a laugh, trying his best to contain his excitement. He couldn't believe that this was working!

As if struck by lightning, Wendy's expression changed. She sucked air through grit teeth and winced in regret, "Ooh…on second thought, Dip, I can't…" Her eyes rolled as she went into further detail, "It's just that I already have plans with Robbie tonight…"

"Oh…" The grin was wiped from Dipper's face, "…that's okay…"

His friend took notice of her young charge's disappointment. "Tell ya, buddy. Tomorrow night, _I'm all yours!_ We'll do all those things that you wanted to do!"

Dipper's brown eyes shimmered at the ginger's words, "R-Really? You mean it?"

Wendy lowered herself down on one knee in order to meet Dipper eye-to-eye. To his surprise, she extended a closed fist to him. Her pinkie finger slowly peeked out a moment later.

He looked back and forth between the lone digit and his crush's green eyes, "I don't understand…"

With her free hand, Wendy reached over, grabbing Dipper by the wrist, and stretched his arm outwards. "Make a fist and gimme your pinkie, Dipper!" she ordered.

The young boy followed her instructions, only to have Wendy wrap her finger tightly around his. "There!" the teenager declared as she squeezed him harder, "Now, it's a pinkie-swear, and _Wendy Corduroy never breaks a pinkie-swear!_"

As the tooth-filled smile returned to Dipper's face, a blaring horn could be heard in the distance, drawing the tender moment to an end. Bright-yellow headlights flowed through the windows of the Mystery Shack Gift Shop.

Wendy let go of her embrace, "That's Robbie!" Dipper was spellbound as his crush collected her things and headed towards the exit.

In the distance, the spectator Dipper awoke from this scene of bliss with a horrible feeling of déjà vu, _"This is the last time I saw her…"_

He called out towards his main squeeze, "Wendy! Wait! _Please_!"

The lanky teen took no heed of the seemingly secluded voice. His past self followed Wendy to the door. Dipper tried to stop the love struck pre-teen following along at her heels.

"Dipper," he felt a bit off calling himself by his own name, "Stop her! _Or else, you'll never, ever see her again_!" He tried to halt his double, only to have his arms go straight through. "You have to do something! Beg! Cry! Scream! Claw at her legs! Just make her stop, _now_! _Please_!"

The observer was left helpless as he watched Wendy walk out of his life yet again. As she opened the passenger's side of Robbie's van, Wendy paused, as if though a form of women's intuition. She turned back towards the two Dippers standing in the doorway of the Mystery Shack Gift Shop as they were mesmerized by her every move.

Wendy gazed at the overly-concerned boy and offered an encouraging wink. "See you tomorrow, Dipper!" she waved good-bye as she lowered herself into the raised seat. At her side, Dipper could make out the pock-marked face of Robbie V. as he narrowed his dark eyes at the small sleuth.

"Bye, Wendy!" the visible Dipper waved excitedly as the van sped away into the wilderness. "I can't wait!"

_"No…not again!"_ the ghostly form covered his eyes with his hands, pleading the fates to stop what was coming next. A gentle humming broke through the silence. Dipper removed his hands to see that the scene had changed. Morning had come, and it was his turn for cashier duty in the Gift Shop. Dipper watched as his replica happily whistled to himself, bouncing along on top of his swaying stool, as he count down the seconds until the arrival of his teenaged crush.

All of a sudden, the door flew open. The bell hanging overhead rose off of its settlement and fell to the wooden floor with a loud *CLANK!*

Dipper looked up, expecting to see Wendy in the doorway. His smile completely vanished as he spotted the husky lumberjack, Manly Dan, in her place. The enormous man budged as he took deep breaths. An enraged expression was made obvious as the giant pointed a gloved finger at the pip-squeaked clerk.

"YOU!" He raved at the top of his lungs. Before Dipper could react, Manly Dan rushed over to the counter and seized him by the collar. The vulnerable boy was dragged on top, his knees painfully running into the splintered finish.

"WHERE IS SHE?!" The brute demanded, shaking Dipper wildly. "WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER?!"

"Wha…"

"Don't play coy with me, boy! I know you two are close! If anyone knows where she is, it'd be _you_!"

Dipper remained confused by Manly Dan's claims, "I don't know what you're talking about! The last time I saw Wendy was yesterday when she left work!"

"LIAR!" His iron-cast grip only tightened further. "Start squealing, kid!" the woodsman flashed a creepy smile, "Before I start to get angry…"

Left without any other option, Dipper shrieked to the top of his lungs, "HELP! GRUNKLE STAN! HELP!"

Seconds later, the geezer burst into the room, "What's going on here?"

Dipper turned towards his great-uncle, "He's gone crazy!"

Grunkle Stan ran towards the scene. He attempted to wrestle the brute away from the fragile child, "Dan, what are you doing?!"

"My girl never came home last night, and this twerp knows something! Tell me where she is!"

"I swear, I don't know!" It was a moment later that the seriousness of Manly Dan's words struck Dipper, leaving him stunned.

At long last, Stan pulled Manly Dan off Dipper, "He's telling the truth, Corduroy!" Stan explained. "The boy was with me all night! There's no way he knows what's going on!"

The colossus looked at the elder, and stopped in his tracks. He replied in a calmed voice, "Then…then it's true what they're saying in town…she did run off with…" Defeated, the enraged father turned around and made his way towards the ruined exit.

Dipper awoke from his stupor, "Wait a second!" he called after the departing parent, "What happened to Wendy?!"

Manly Dan continued on his way, ignoring the squeaky voiced lad chasing after him.

_"What happened to Wendy?!"_

* * *

"Why do I keep seeing these flashes?" Dipper asked himself as he was whisked back into the darkness of sleep. "What is the point if I can't change anything?" He shuddered at the thought of some malicious entity teasing him through his dreamscapes for the mere joy of it. As he pondered the meaning behind everything, another vision appeared before his eyes.

"I told ya, kid! It's not any of yer business!"

Dipper watched as his past self stood at the porch of Wendy's cabin in the Gravity Falls Woods. Her father, Manly Dan, stood at the entrance of the cozy house as he tried to shoo the inquisitive boy away from his home.

"Please, Mr. Manly Dan!" he beseeched. "I know I can help find Wendy! I just need to know what exactly – "

The behemoth swiped at Dipper to increase their distance, "There's no mystery to be solved here! _She ran away!_ My little girl decided to abandon her family for some sniveling, skinny-jeaned freak!"

"Skinny-jeaned freak?" Dipper questioned.

"I'll never understand what she sees in tiny, minuscule weaklings like you and him!"

"Hey!"

"Enough of this!" Manly Dan vented as he pointed towards the forest, "Now, go home, kid, _before I throw you there_!"

*SLAM*

Dipper walked over to the big boulder resting alongside Wendy's house and sat down on it. He lowered his head on his hands as he tried to figure out his next course of action. A moment later, a tiny hand was felt on Dipper's right shoulder. He jumped up and spun around to see that Wendy's youngest brother stood at his side. With a heartbroken look on his face, the youngest lumberjack started to relay the last couple of days around the Corduroy household.

It turned out that on the day of Wendy's disappearance, she and her father had gotten into a terrible argument about her mischievous ways. When the subject changed to that of her recent dating choices, the furious redhead stormed out towards work, warning the over-protective guardian, _"If you keep treating me like this, one day, Robbie and I are going to hit the road on our own, and never come back to this wreck of a town!"_

As with any other teenager connected to social media, Wendy's outrage had been broadcast all throughout the juvenile community of Gravity Falls. When she failed to arrive home, Manly Dan (and the rest of the world) assumed that she had made good on her empty threat.

The baby of the family assured Dipper his father, in spite of all of the anger, rage, and stubborn pride, was not who he appeared to be. He told tales of catching his parent, all alone in his room, gently weeping while clutching his daughter's picture close to his flannel chest.

With the new information, Dipper went to take his leave, only to be stopped once more.

Wendy's brother asked, "You told my dad you can help find my sister. Did you really mean it?"

Dipper nodded slowly, "Yes. Yes, I did…" The story of Manly Dan's sensitive side made him make another request of the little insider…

* * *

"When is this going to end?!" Dipper asked aloud as the last memory faded. "Why am I being tortured like this?" From out of his control, more and more memory lapses were played in front of his eyes, each one another failed attempt in finding out what happened to his beloved crush:

Using a recent picture he asked Wendy's little brother for, Dipper was able to put together a makeshift "MISSING" poster with his friend's portrait spread across. After making dozens of copies, he went around to various businesses, asking if he could hang his flyer up in their window. The establishments run by recent friends, such as Greasy's Diner, abided by his simple favor, and wished him well on his quest to find his missing friend.

Others, however, weren't as generous. Many retailer owners sent Dipper on his way, literally pushing him out the door without hearing one word about his search. As a last resort, the ever-determined twelve year old went up and down the streets of downtown Gravity Falls, trying to give away his Wendy-themed leaflets to anyone that would stop for a moment. To add to his misfortune, many people who took his sheet would simply gaze down at it, shrug their shoulders, and let the paper fall into the filthy ground. Dipper cringed every time a random stranger walked carelessly on top the visage of his sweetheart.

Back at home, as the overwhelmed boy desperately waited for the phone to ring with any possible clue regarding his friend, a horrifying notion came to mind: _What if he was the reason Wendy was missing?_

Dipper leapt from Stan's recliner and began to pace back and forth as guilt crept into his subconscious. During his short stay in Gravity Falls, his paranormal investigations had made him a lot of enemies that sworn vengeance on the pre-teen. What would have happened if one of them figured out exactly how important the spunky ginger was to him? A million different scenarios played out in Dipper's head: Was she forced to be a teen bride to the vicious gnomes? Held prisoner in Gideon's complex as possible trade for the deed to the Mystery Shack? A victim of one of Old Man McGucket's mood swings? The newest sacrifice to the Man-o-taurs' elders? Or even, whisked away into the future as a part of Blendin Blandin's oath of revenge?

While the image of Robbie lingered for a second, Dipper perished the idea. He figured that if the goth tried any funny business, Wendy would be more than capable in showing him a thing or two on her own.

"Yeah," Dipper confirmed on his own, "Even with both hands tied behind her back, Wendy would simply whomp on him without even trying!" However, he couldn't put the intentions of his other nemeses behind him just as easily.

The next few days, Dipper launched a series of reconnaissance missions in order to confirm his suspicions:

He set up camp around both Lil' Gideon's house and his Tent of Telepathy, only to find no trace of his redhead crush, despite hours of undercover work.

Dipper snuck back into the Man Cave undetected, where he watched his one-time allies, the Man-o-taurs wrestle and fight each other, fueled by nothing but pure adrenaline. Still no Wendy to be found…

As the wily old man pranced around town, Dipper explored the labyrinth-like junkyard lair of Old Man McGucket, discovering nothing but garbage amongst half-built machines. A rabid guard dog ensured that the curious sleuth didn't extend his stay…

All the while, Dipper made sure to keep an eye out for the bald-headed time traveler. He knew that Blendin had a way of hiding himself in the background, stalking his subjects until it was time to start his particular mission.

Finally, Dipper stormed deep into the Gravity Falls Woods, with lit torch in hand until he reached the lair of the Gnomes. He threatened Jeff, the leader of the woodland creatures, that he would personally burn every green acre to the ground until they produced his partner-in-crime. The entire Gnome army begged and pleaded for mercy, imploring that they were innocent of the offense!

Left with no other choice, Dipper went to possibly the last source that he would go for help:

"Sorry, city-boy," Sheriff Blubbs apologized as he repositioned his legs onto the small desk at the GFPD. "We'd already tried to help, but your girlfriend's father turned us away."

Deputy Durland stood at his partner's side with his back against the wall, "Corduroy told us that the girl ran off on her own, and for us not to worry about it..." He rubbed the back of his head, "There's not much we can do if the parent doesn't want us around…"

"But is there _anything_ you can do?" Dipper begged, "_Please_?! I mean, she's only fifteen! Still a minor! Don't you guys _have_ to launch some sort of investigation?"

The portly sheriff sat up and crossed his arms on top of his desk, "Unfortunately, kid. We do things a bit differently than they do in _"Cal-E-Forn-I-A!"_

As Dipper walked out of the police station, he realized that he didn't know what to do now. With every failed idea, his depression and desperation grew intensely. He didn't want to eat. He didn't want to sleep. He didn't even want to explore anything supernatural.

All he wanted was for _his Wendy_ to come back home safe and sound…

* * *

"STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT!"

Dipper covered his eyes, wishing for the flashbacks to end, "WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?!"

In this self-imposed darkness, the voices of the various townsfolk echoed all through, reminding him in a haunting reminder, _"She ran off with Robbie…she ran off with Robbie…"_

He shook his head repeatedly, trying his best to fight off the negativity. "It's not true! It's not true! I can't prove it, but I know it! I know _her_!"

Dipper forced an image to mind; a single snapshot to keep him somewhat sane in a seemingly insane world: Wendy, back at the Mystery Shack, on one knee with her pinkie finger twirled around his.

_"Now, it's a pinkie-swear, and_ _Wendy Corduroy never breaks a pinkie-swear!_"

On the verge of tears, Dipper heard someone call his name among the shadows.

_"Dipper…Dipper…"_

He lowered his hands to see a glowing green light in front of him. Dipper narrowed his eyes in order to gain a better look. He gasped as he realized that his dream girl was standing mere yards away from him.

"WENDY!" Dipper raced towards the glowing teenager. Without any hesitation, he threw his arms around her waist and squeezed as tight as he could. His heart melted as he felt her return the gesture.

After a moment of peace, he raised his head upwards to see that a petrified expression was spread across her freckled face, "You have to find me, Dipper. I'm in trouble! _Serious trouble!"_

"I know!" Dipper explained. "But no one believes me! Where are you?"

"I – I don't know!" Wendy let go of her young charge and wrapped her arms around herself, "It's cold. And dark. And it hurts, Dipper! It hurts so much…" Her voice started to break as she went deeper in description.

Dipper bit his lip to prevent more tears from shedding. He figured that the last thing Wendy needed to see was him blubbering in hysterics. "I'm trying my best, Wendy, I swear –"

His pledge was cut off as Wendy screamed out loud. Clutching her sides, the fifteen year old spun around and sunk to her knees as she moaned to herself.

"Wendy!" Dipper placed his hand on her shoulder, "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Dipper…" Wendy whispered, "You need to hurry…" She turned around and seized her secret admirer by the arms. The boy looked at the sight before him and screamed bloody murder. Wendy's pale, freckled flesh had been stripped away, revealing a bleach-white skull. Her emerald eyes were switched with pure-black holes, each with a blood-red pupil. Her gorgeous, bushy red hair had fallen out, leaving behind a few pinkish-white strands. Her white, toothy grin had vanished, replaced with yellow, razor-tipped remnants.

"You need to hurry…" the Wendy-ghoul warned in a raspy voice, _"…or else, they're going to do this to me!"_

The frightened boy shrieked as the monstrous version of his missing main squeeze tightened her grip. Dipper jolted from his sound sleep with the lingering images still fresh in his mind.

"What? Huh?" He looked around the dank room to see that once more, he had fallen asleep at his table. Clumps of newspaper clippings and notes stuck to his drool-covered face. Dipper pulled away the mess from his head as grim reality sunk in again. Wendy was still missing, and he was forced to relive the same horrid nightmare every time he slept.

He looked to the side of the table to see the pile of "MISSING" posters displaying Wendy's picture. He grasped the top sheet and stared deeply at the brighten redhead smiling back at him, "I don't know where you are, and I don't know how, but I promise, I'll find you, no matter what…"


	3. Chapter 3

_"Dipper's Journal – Entry #618_

_I had the dream again. Flashes of memories are shown to me: the last time I saw Wendy, Manly Dan's reactions, practically every attempt I've taken to try to find her. What does it all mean? Is my subconscious trying to show me something that I'm missing?_

_This last time, the ending of the dream changed. I saw her. Actually, it was more than that. I felt her. I smelt her. I could have sworn on everything that's holy that Wendy was really there in the darkness with me. However, she came with a warning: her time was running out!_

_Left without any idea where to continue my search, I decided to take Mabel's advice. That is, to get out of the Mystery Shack for a moment and rejoin the "real world." The way I see it, perhaps a breath of fresh air and a quick bite to eat could recharge my batteries, and if I'm lucky, maybe I'll find a new clue that'll help me find Wendy before it's too late…"_

* * *

Dipper Pines pushed open the entrance door to Greasy's Diner. He hesitated for a moment as he spied into the crowd. His heart sank as he watched all of the happy faces. Friends, family members, and lovers ate and conversed among one another without a care in the world. The twelve year old truly envied them, and moreso, their ignorance; how that form of peace of mind and heart could be taken for granted, and furthermore, how easily everything could be taken away without rhyme or reason.

With his eyes to the hole-filled wooden floor, Dipper slid into his favorite seat, the corner booth on the right-hand side. With his arms crossed on the table, he lowered his chin on top as he wondered if he had made the right decision by deciding to come outside.

His vision shot upwards as a huge shadow overcame his tiny stature. The friendly waitress (and Grunkle Stan's on-and-off again crush) Lazy Susan stood at the table's edge with her pen and pad at the ready.

"Well, hello there!" she cheerfully greeted the depressed tween. "So, what'll it be?"

"Hi, Lazy Susan," Dipper half-heartedly replied. He shrugged his shoulders, "Just the usual, please…"

The waitress noted the melancholy stemming from the small detective, "Hey," she nasally croaked. "Why so glum?" She placed an arm on her hip, "And how come you're all by yourself? Where's that lady friend that you're always…"

The absent-minded woman took note of the MISSING poster hanging in the window just above Dipper's head. The mere mention of his friend made him sink further into the booth's cushion. She bit her tongue in an effort to mind the boy's feelings.

"Err…never mind. How about this one time…your meal…on the house?"

Dipper slightly raised his head, "Thanks…" Lazy Susan placed a comforting hand on his shoulder before disappearing behind the counter to place his order. Dipper covered his face with his hands and rubbed up and down, "Maybe this was a mistake…"

In his volitional dimness, Dipper could make out familiar voices stemming from the booth behind him.

"It's been crazy these last few days, huh?"

"Tell me about it, man. I still can't believe they're gone…"

"I feel bad, but then again, Wendy and Robbie knew what they were getting into. It's not like they never heard the stories about what happens there. Every teen in Gravity Falls knows that legend!"

With the mere mention of his sweet love's name, Dipper jumped to attention. Standing on the booth's cushioning, the curious boy peeked over to the other side. The recognizable tones belonged to Wendy's friends, Nate and Lee. Both teenagers had a moment of silence for their fallen comrades, each raising a glass of Pitt Cola in salute before taking a sip.

"The Lichman House claims two more…" Nate lamented.

"Yep…" Lee followed along.

Dipper couldn't believe his ears! At long last, he might have found his answer!

He found the courage to speak up, "Wait a sec! What about you guys talking about?!"

Caught off-guard, Nate and Lee nearly spit up their drinks. They looked up and welcomed their pint-sized friend. "Hey, it's Dr. Fun Times!" Lee greeted.

Nate nodded in response, "Long time no see!"

Dipper climbed over the barrier, landing at Nate's side, "What was that stuff you guys were saying a second ago? You know where Wendy is?"

He found himself surprised by the calmness and casual attitude of the boys' replies. "Yeah, man, she and Robbie went exploring inside of the ol' Lichman place…" Nate explained.

"And once you go inside the Lichman house," Lee sighed. "You never get to leave…"

"Then, what are you two waiting for?!" Dipper exclaimed. "Why haven't you told anyone about this?!"

The teens shot a confused look to one another and turned towards the frantic young adult.

"Kid, what are we supposed to do?" Nate asked. "Go to the cops and say, "Hey, we think our friends are trapped in a haunted house?" They'd send us to the funny farm!"

"Yeah," Lee confirmed, "It's not like anyone would take us serious –" The blonde suddenly remembered who he was talking to, "Hey, that's your sorta thing isn't it? Like that one time at the convenience store?" He double-checked with Nate, "Wendy did say that the little guy chased those ghosts away with just a baseball bat, right?"

Dipper scooted closer, "Tell me everything that you guys know…_please_?"

* * *

"I couldn't believe it, Mabel! They said that day, Robbie told them that he was planning on spending the night there with Wendy as part of some stupid triple-dog-dare-thing…"

The brunette crossed her arms and shook her head as she watched her brother sift through the huge, messy pile in their closet for supplies, "If those stories were true, wouldn't this be the first place that the police would have looked?"

Dipper peeked up from the filth, "That's the thing! According to what the guys said, anything on record relating to this "Lichman" was sealed away by the courts years ago. I double-checked everything at the Gravity Falls Library. There's absolutely no mention of this guy anywhere! But if you check out the mysterious disappearances over the last thirty years, nearly all of them are in the vicinity of that house! 99% of them involve teenagers, Mabel!"

He sorted out everything that would be necessary in his rescue mission and pushed the rest of the clutter back into the closet. Dipper had to throw himself against the door to get it to close properly. He reached beneath his bed and pulled out a dust-blanketed knapsack, squeezing as much of his wares into it as humanly possible.

Dipper raised his head towards his twin, "Aren't you going to get ready?"

Mabel looked surprised, "For what?"

He was astonished by her answer, "To help me save Wendy! What else did you think I was talking about?"

The pip-squeaked girl closed her eyes, preparing herself to break the news to her brother:

"Dipper, I'm not coming with you…"

"WHAT?!" He jumped to his feet and confronted his sibling, "How can you say that after everything I told you?!"

"Because Wendy's not going to be there, Dipper…"

"But Mabel, all the pieces fit! They said – "

She placed a supportive hand on Dipper's shoulder, "I believe that _you believe_ that _they believed_ that she could be there, but it still doesn't make it true. You think you need to go to keep yourself going, but what'll happen when you don't find Wendy there, Dipper? You'll lose all hope and become miserable and depressed!"

His brown eyes became saucers, "I…I can't…"

Mabel squeezed him harder, "Look at yourself, Dipper!" She extended a sweater-covered arm towards the mirror at the edge of the room, noting Dipper's worn-out and battered reflection, "You say that Wendy cares about you so much; is this what she would want for you? To see you do this to yourself over and over again?"

Dipper lowered his head as he reflected on his sister's words. After a minute of quiet solitude, the only thing that he could hear inside of his mind was Wendy's desperate pleas from within his dreams. He raised his head to face Mabel once more.

"Mabel," he said. "I'm still going. I can't explain it, but I know she's there. I need…I need your help on this one, probably more than ever…_please_?"

The spunky girl removed her hand from her brother's shoulder blade and took a step back. Her sights shifted to the splintered filled flooring.

"…no…"

Dipper stood speechless as he looked at his sister. Taking a moment to gather his supplies, Dipper stood up with his backpack equipped and walked past Mabel without saying a word. As he was about to walk out the bedroom door, she called out for him, "Dipper…don't…"

In a thrust of rage, he spun around, "Don't "Dipper" me! After everything that's happened this summer; all the things I had to deal with to help you out: the zombie/gnome boyfriend, giving up the best shot I had with Wendy over _a pig_, sacrificing an awesome summer job for some _fish boy_…"

"Mermando's not just some fish…"

"That's not the point!" Dipper yelled back. "Anything you asked, I did! And now, when a person's life is on the line –"

"You don't know that!"

"When a person's life in on the line…" he repeated, "You don't wanna help! Fine, Mabel!" Dipper reached for the doorknob, "Thanks for nothing!"

*SLAM*

Left all alone, Mabel simply stared at the now-shut door, wondering to herself if she had made the right choice despite her best intentions…

* * *

"This can't be the right place…"

Dipper looked down at the address he had scribbled down in the journal's page, and compared it to the numbers posted on the polished mailbox cemented into the ground. It was one and the same! He looked around the area with a sense of amazement.

"I've never seen a haunted house that looked anything like…_like this_!"

Beneath the shine of the setting sun, the comfy two-story home gleamed; its bright pink paint job sparkled as if the task was finished recently. A smoothly paved walkway separated two divisions of a freshly cut lawn, leading up to the edge of the sidewalk where Dipper currently stood. Right next to the mailbox, a handicap parking sign was implanted into the grass, warning trespassers that their vehicles would be towed if they dared go against its orders.

The determined boy carefully approached the porch; the worn steps creaked beneath his black sneakers. He stopped short of the door, dropping to one knee in order to get a better look at its lock.

"Hmm…" Dipper mumbled to himself, "It looks pretty old. I'm sure I can pick this pretty easil – "

As soon as he touched the knob, the door screeched open, making the sleuth hop back in reflex. Dipper chuckled at his own dumb luck, "Well, that was easy…" He rubbed his fingers against his chin in curiosity, "…a bit _too easy_…"

He stuck his head through the doorway to see what possible horror awaited him. Yet again, he was shocked to find absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. As Dipper stepped into the entrance and shut the door behind him, he found himself marveled by the sights before his eyes.

Dimly lit lights were hung up high on among the various structures placed around the room. Dipper noticed that there wasn't an inch of dust or a single spider web to be found. He looked up to see a simple, yet eloquent chandelier dangling from the ceiling. Dipper spotted another worn-out door to his right. He tried to jiggle the handle, only to find it locked. Straight ahead, a sturdy staircase led up to a second floor. As Dipper went to take a step upwards, a loud noise echoed from the room over.

Dipper jumped backwards at the sound, "What was that?" Dropping his backpack by the stairs, he rushed into the next area and found himself in a large parlor. Fancy, adorned rugs covered every aspect of the floor. A series of loveseats circled the room, leaving a recliner and a lounge couch placed by one another. Dark red drapes blocked the window, allowing a bit of sunlight into the room. A surprisingly clean fireplace was conveniently on the opposite side of the room.

"Huh…" he thought to himself, analyzing every aspect of the regular-looking front room. "This place would barely be considered _abandoned_ yet alone _haunted_." He hung his head in disappointment, "Perhaps the guys were wrong; maybe Mabel was right about everythi-"

His words dried up as he spotted something lying against the couch. An excited smile spread across his face as he ran towards the possible evidence. He dropped to his knees to gain a closer look at the clue.

A familiar-looking pair of mud-stained lumberjack boots was propped up against the loveseat. Dipper flipped the shoes over in examination, noting that the owner must be someone with very tiny feet. After hesitating for a second, Dipper took a quick sniff inside of one of the boots, his eyes instantly widen upon recognizing the scent.

"It's…It's Wendy's perfume!"

Dipper sprang upwards with excitement. He'd know that pungent smell anywhere. The Gift Shop Counter of the Mystery Shack constantly reeked of the scent, especially when the redheaded clerk was stationed there. While Dipper celebrated his first real finding, he dropped the boot in realizing that his knowing of that particular piece of _knowledge_ could be considered kind of _sad_.

Suddenly, a cold shiver spread down the boy's back. Dipper turned around to see that above the fireplace, a portrait of a sinister-looking old man seemingly stared down at him. Dressed in a long, white overcoat, the elder stood with folded arms on a dark backdrop. No matter what angle he turned, Dipper could not shake the feeling that the man's eyes were following his every move.

"So," Dipper acknowledged. "That's that Lichman guy, huh?" He nodded along, "Yep, definitely looks like a total creep to me!"

Now, that he knew that Wendy was inside of the deceiving house, Dipper just had to figure out _exactly_ where she was hidden away. He took a seat at the edge of the couch, reached into his navy-blue vest and pulled out his beat-up journal. A huge cloud of dust shot out from the cushioning, coating Dipper's small frame, and making him cough in reflex. As he began to draw up a form of battle plan, a flicker of orange and red could be seen from the corner of his right eye.

"…-PER…"

He returned his attention to the fireplace. Dipper raised an eyebrow, making sure that he was truly alone. Between of the stories from the other teenagers as well as the cryptic newspaper clippings from the Gravity Falls Library, the young detective chalked it up to his overactive imagination. He shrugged and went back to his notes.

"DIPPER!"

He turned around to see that a huge flame roared to life into the once-empty fireplace. Dipper hopped back, slipping from the cushioning and landing roughly on the carpeted floor.

"How the – " he questioned. "What started that – "

"DIPPER!"

He squinted his eyes at the incredible sight before him. The waves of the fires swirled and waved around until it formed a particular shape. It called out to him by name.

"_Unreal_…this…this can't be happening!"

From within the blaze, the visage of Wendy Corduroy came spewing forth. Her dark, saddened eyes burned like living embers. A large, worried frown was spread across her freckled face.

"_Dipper_!" Wendy cried out as her image looked around blindly, "_Where are you_?!"

_"I'm here, Wendy! I'm right here!" _ Her secret admirer leapt towards, only to pull himself back at the last second. For a moment, he almost forgot that the flesh on his hands would have been severely singed by reaching into the burning inferno.

"Wha – "

All of a sudden, the fire evaporated into thin-air, taking the likeness of the teenage captive along with it.

"WENDY?!" Dipper crawled into the now empty inglenook, looking for any answer to what just occurred. Oddly enough, there wasn't a trace of the fire to be found. He ran an index finger against the top, only to find that the surface was ice cold and soot-free.

"But," Dipper stuttered, unable to come up with a reasonable answer for what just happened, "I saw _it_! How did – "

_"Dipper…"_

The lone whisper broke through the quiet atmosphere. Dipper spun around on his heels to see Wendy standing at the entryway of the house.

_"Wendy…"_

Dipper watched as she went to head in his direction, only to stop in mid-step. Her green eyes shifted to the floor as she pulled on her jeaned covered legs. Wendy grunted in discomfort as she wiggled around in place.

"Something's wrong…" Dipper noted. "Did she get stuck or something?"

His brown eyes followed the super-tall teenager as she began to shrink in stature. Dipper forced himself to his legs, allowing him to see the horrid truth unraveling before him: Wendy's plaid-colored stocking feet were sinking into the large carpet in the middle of the main hall!

"Dipper!" Her frantic eyes looked towards her partner in crime. "HELP ME!"

"I'm coming!"

The little hero raced towards his distressed friend, only to trip over an unseen ottoman. Dipper landed painfully on his chin.

*OOF!*

Stunned by his fall, Dipper raised his head upwards. Wendy was now knee deep into the floor!

"Dude…" Wendy pleaded with her cohort, "Hurry!"

With renewed energy, Dipper pushed himself up, only to slip on the lavish rugs spread around the living room. He caught himself just before his knees hit the fuzzy ground.

"Dipper!" The ginger found herself at waist-length into the horrific trap.

"No!" Dipper sprang back into action, "Hang on, Wendy! Hang on!"

At last, the pre-teen reached his entrapped crush, "Give me your hands!"

Nearly shoulder-deep in, Wendy stretched her arms outwards, allowing Dipper to take a firm grip on her dainty wrists.

"Don't let go!" Dipper ordered.

"PULL!"

Dipper drew back as hard as he could, digging his heels into the wooden floor. Despite his best efforts, he found himself unable to budge Wendy a single inch towards freedom. He gazed ahead to see that Wendy's green eyes were solely focused on him as they started to turn a teary-red.

"I'm trying, Wendy!" Dipper closed his eyes and fought against his own tears, "_I swear, I really am_!"

"I know, Dip!" she encouraged, "Keep going! You can do it!"

The unwavering adolescent slowly embraced a new strategy, taking step by step back in hopes of gaining more leverage. However, the floor never faltered its grip on the deeply wedged teenager. With one last pull, the presence yanked Wendy out of Dipper's grasp, knocking the fragile child on his backside, and dragged the shrieking girl beneath the surface.

"NO!" Dipper dove back towards Wendy's location, only to miss snagging her fingertips by mere millimeters. He turned around to see that all that remained of the incident was the red and green throw rug that his beloved co-worker disappeared into.

"WENDY!" Dipper clawed against the fabric in an attempt to find the passage that she was forced into. He looked around at the empty room and shouted to the top of his lungs:

"BRING HER BACK!" he demanded. "BRING HER BACK NOW!"

A cool breeze flowed through the dry, silent room, making goosebumps form all over his body. He gazed back down to see that the Wendy-colored carpet had vanished from beneath him.

"What the –"

He looked down at the now scratched-covered bare wooden floor. His memory flashed back to when he first walked into the house, or more specifically, how the front room appeared:

_"It was always a barren floor! There weren't any rugs or carpets in the first place! _

He started to question the reality before his eyes. Was any of the haunting images of Wendy real? Was everything he just experienced a form of ghostly prank? Dipper raised his head to the sky and screamed aloud to the dwelling holding his secret love hostage:

"WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?! WHAT DO YOU WANT?!"

The front door flew open, making Dipper skip away in defense. The wind began to howl from inside of the building. As it circled around the dazed lad, a form of twitting sound began to fill his ears, as if it was a dozen different little whispers:

_"Leave…leave…"_

_"Go…go home…"_

_"Leave her…"_

_"Forget her…"_

_"She stays…"_

_"Forever…"_

_"She's ours…"_

Dipper covered his ears as paranoia started to rise up within his structure. Left without any other option, he ran to the exit, and threw his full weight against it, sealing it up from the inside. Nerve-wrecked and out of breath, Dipper yelled back to his tormentors:

_"I'm not leaving! I'm not going anywhere without my Wendy! You guys can keep Robbie if you want, but as long as she's here, I'll stop at nothing to find her!"_

The windfall rotated around Dipper again, only this time, the static-y resonance resembled that of countless amount of mocking laughter. As it finally dissipated, one final low-key whisper made the defiant boy quiver in his sneakers:

_"…good luck…"_


	4. Chapter 4

_"Dipper's Journal – Entry #619_

_I can't even begin to describe what has just happened…_

_It was only a few hours ago that I found the defining clue that could lead to Wendy's whereabouts. I overheard her high school friends Lee and Nate talking about how that jerk Robbie was going to take her to spend the night at a supposedly haunted house as part of some crazy dare._

_I'll admit it, I wasn't completely sure after talking to the guys. I can't even count how many dead ends I've chased in the last few days, but I was growing desperate to find anything that helps me in finding Wendy._

_After doing some research at the Gravity Falls Library, things started to make sense. It turns out that this Lichman place was the site of many mysterious disappearances over the last thirty years. Coincidentally, every single victim was a teenager!_

_I was hoping that Mabel would be willing to help me out with exploring this place, but she refused, thinking that I was "chasing windmills" and insisting that I accept that Wendy was gone forever. I couldn't tell if I was more angry or hurt by her answer. If the situation was reversed, I would drop everything to go help her. If there was one person that I'd thought would never hold me to a double-standard, it would have been Mabel…_

_When I first arrived here, I would have guessed from its appearance that this place was anything but ghost-infested. As I was about to leave, I found my first piece of real evidence. A pair of worn-out boots, fuming of Wendy's favorite fragrance and slight foot odor, was left abandoned against a couch in the living room. Finally, I had my proof! Wendy was here somewhere! I thought that my luck was finally starting to change._

_That is, until the craziness started…_

_I started to see Wendy everywhere! First, her image called out to me from a blaze that magically appeared in the fireplace. I physically had to stop myself from leaping in after her; it would have burnt me to a crisp! As the fire faded away, I heard Wendy's voice from behind me. She was literally being sucked into the floor! I tried my best to pull her out, but whatever had her in its grip was just too strong for me._

_I turned around to see that the carpet that she sunk into had completely vanished from sight! There and then, I realized there and then that all of these "experiences" weren't real. The essence inhabiting this place was cruelly teasing me! It demanded that I forget about Wendy and leave the house immediately. I fought back, saying that I wouldn't go with her, only to be laughed at._

_Seeing as the living room parlor was empty, and the other doors on the first floor were sealed shut, the next step is to start exploring the rooms upstairs. I have to find Wendy and get her out of here before she ends up like that ghoul from my nightmares!"_

* * *

Dipper set the journal back into his vest, and turned to face his next destination. Ever since his confrontation with the presence holding his secret love prisoner, he could make out the troubling sounds of creaking and groaning coming from upstairs. The small detective couldn't tell if it was the old house settling or if it was a signal from Wendy, attempting to alert her rescuer from her confinement that she was nearby.

He picked his knapsack up and threw up against his shoulder as he carefully set foot on the first step. It moaned under the pressure of his sneakered foot. After a moment of hesitation, Dipper continued onwards step by step, following the thin red carpet that led the way to the second floor. Covered in tacky magenta wallpaper, the leftmost wall held a series of dust-covered, closed-off doorways. On his right, a sturdy gold-colored handrail provided the sole barrier between a rather nasty drop onto the grimy chandelier dangling from the ceiling, and the hard-wooden floor of the entryway.

Judging by the conditions of the doors, Dipper figured that no one had opened them in a while; or at least, that's what this cursed place wanted him to think. With an index finger extended, the pint-sized sleuth relied on a tried and true method to aid in his choice on where to go next:

"Eeny-meeny-miny-moe, catch a tiger by the toe…"

Dipper ran his digit side by side through the numerous choices until the nursery rhyme started to come to an end:

"…let him go, eeny-meeny-miny-moe!"

Following his finger, Dipper headed towards the leftmost door. Taking a deep breath, he placed his hand on the doorknob and started to turn…

*C-C-C-R-R-R-E-E-A-A-K!*

Suddenly, the middle room opened ever so slightly. As Dipper turned his head, the door halted in place. His eyes perked up as a whisper filled the empty atmosphere:

_"…dork…"_

Dipper let go of the handle and made his way to the newly opened passage. Once more, the faint voice called out, _"…dork…"_ The pre-teen didn't recognize it as belonging to Wendy, and while the tone did sound awfully familiar, he couldn't remember exactly whom it belonged to.

He peeked into the room, only to find complete darkness; a vast contrast to the dimmed lights found in the entrance and parlor of the house. Dipper let his backpack slip from his shoulder. He unzipped the front end and started to dig around in his supplies. After a few moments, he pulled out a long, narrow flashlight. Dipper flicked the switch to turn it on, only to have it sputter for a few seconds. He banged it against the wall a few times until a solid beam of light began to shoot out of the front end.

With his free hand, Dipper threw open the door and used his flashlight to provide a beacon of brightness amidst the pitch black. The light revealed that nearly everything in the room was a shade of royal purple. A thin veil formed a canopy over the huge, king-size bed placed in the center of the room. Plush shag carpet adorned the flooring. Several framed documents, mostly doctrines and awards, were hung ceremonially on the four walls.

Dipper stepped inside of the room and turned his attention to the right. He tried to turn on the light switch mounted on the wall, only to discover that it had no effect. The boy ventured further into the room, his sneakered feet making padding sounds on the fancy rug. An object reflecting a different color caught Dipper's eye. He made his way pass the luxurious bedding to see that a light brown nightstand was stationed right next to it.

A hard-bound book labeled, "MEMORIES" was placed on the stand along with a tiny table-lamp. Dipper tried to switch the bulb on, only to find that it, too, was dead. Tucking the flashlight beneath his arm, he picked up the text, breaking the thin layer of dust that seemingly covered every aspect of the house.

Sitting back on the lavish bedding, Dipper was blasted with another spray of filth. He quickly brushed away the particles before they could affect his allergies once again. He opened the book and began to speed-read through the worn, yellow-pages.

To Dipper's surprise, it was a collection of newspaper clippings. He noticed that the first few pages were glamorized accolades of the house's previous owner.

"Hey," Dipper narrowed his eyes, studying the imagery closely, "It's the guy from the painting downstairs; he's just way younger in these photos!" The frowning, white-haired hunchback was portrayed as a smiling, sturdy young man with a slicked-back black mane stemming with confidence and charisma.

"Let's see here: awards, grants, honors; nothing too out of the ordinary…"

The inquisitive youth noticed that each of the articles were taken from tabloids from other towns. He chalked it up to why he didn't see of these mentions in the Gravity Falls Library's archives. As Dipper turned the next page, a sense of nausea grew deep in the pit of his stomach.

"TEENAGE COUPLE DISAPPEARS WITHOUT A TRACE! GRAVITY FALLS POLICE BAFFLED!"

Dipper identified the excerpt as the exact same one on microfilm back at the Library! Noticing that the piece was out of place in contrast to the others, the twelve year old found himself wondering why Lichman would keep such a grim reminder. The answer was revealed as Dipper continued onwards in the book:

"POPULAR ATHLETE VANISHES! REWARDS OFFERED FOR SAFE RETURN!"

"ABANDONED VEHICLE DISCOVERED IN GRAVITY FALLS WOODS! K-9 UNIT ASSISTS IN SEEKING REMAINS!"

"SERIES OF UNEXPLAINED ADOLESCENT KIDNAPPINGS ON THE RISE! POLICE CHIEF: "NO COMMENT…""

"It's all here…" Dipper exclaimed in disbelief, "_Every page from the library_ is right here!" He closed the text and stared down at the cover, "It's almost as if this guy celebrated all of these tragedies…" Dipper shuddered as he wondered what kind of sick mind was he dealing with?

_"…dork…"_

Dipper hopped in place, tossing the book of "mementos" into the floor. He lifted his flashlight and peered into the darkness for the source of the haunting sound. A wooden puppet sat on a comfortable, padded chair in the leftmost corner of the room. Dressed in a red and black jester's outfit, the doll faced downwards with soulless blackened eyes. A devilish smirk had been painted on its face with a single stroke. A long, wiener-like nose extended from the center of the head. Mid-length, shaggy hair draped from under the bell-trimmed cap, nearly touching the drawn-on visage.

As the tween came closer to examine the dummy, he pulled back as the light reflected on the puppet's hands. A shining scimitar was cradled in each plastered fist. Dipper gulped, opting to not tempt the fate by finding out if they were genuine or not. A general dislike for the lifeless object rose up from within him. Dipper had always been wary of any type of marionette, from those colorful, yet educational monsters on public access television, to his twin sister's beloved, yet incredibly creepy Bear-O doll.

However, this particular form seemed to hit a sensitive nerve within the edgy boy. At first, he couldn't put his finger on it, but the truth suddenly struck him like a ton of bricks! He looked over the toy and realized why he felt such a sinister feeling:

Save for the jester outfit, it was the splitting image of his rival, Robbie V!

His fear quickly transformed into anger as he remembered the goth's role in all of this. "If it wasn't for _him_," Dipper grumbled under his breath, "Wendy wouldn't be in this mess…"

Dipper's thoughts quickly shifted to that of the mysterious, mocking whisper, or in particular, how the voice sounded so familiar. Slowly, he lifted his head as a horrifying thought crept up through the back of his mind, "What if this place turned Robbie into this ugly thing?" As he went to take a step close, he paused in mid-step.

"Nah…" Dipper dismissed. "If anything, it has to be some sort of trick…" He remembered the illusions involving his teenaged sweetheart. "It's just this place trying to mess with my mind again." Finding nothing else to aid in his quest, Dipper made his way towards the exit as he plotted his next course of action.

*THUNK!*

"What was that?!"

Dipper stared back into the shadows to see what the noise was. He raised the flashlight and looked around the room for the source of the sound. Turning to his right, Dipper gasped aloud, nearly dropping his only source of light.

A long, sharpen knife was embedded in the doorframe right next to him! He took a deep gulp, realizing that the blade was mere inches away from striking him in his knapsack-covered back.

"But where did this come – "

Dipper's jaw dropped open as he recognized the design of the rapier; it was one of the swords belonging to the Robbie-looking doll! The frightened child turned around and shined his beam towards the left corner of the room, only to find that the puppet had _vanished from its resting place_!

_"…dork…"_

"Ohh…." A quivering cry escaped from Dipper's lips. It was bad enough that that he was trapped in the house with that horrid thing, but the possibility that the toy could be alive was almost too much to bear! With his eyes focused in front of him, Dipper reached behind and attempted to pull the knife from the wall. He figured that if his nightmares had come true, he'd have a better chance at survival being well-armed.

Dipper pulled on the handle, trying his best to pry the blade free. It was wedged tightly into the wall. No matter how much he pulled, the tiny sleuth could not budge it loose. Hesitating for a second, he turned around and yanked the grip with both hands, even going as far as to place his foot against the wall and push off for additional leverage, only to have no effect.

"Great!" he bemoaned in disbelief. "Just great!"

He quickly tried to formulate a battle plan to deal with the potential threat. "Okay, okay…" Dipper tried to calm himself. "I'll just lock that thing in here. That way, it won't bother me, and I can't bother it." He nervously nodded along with the idea, "Yep, sounds like a plan!"

Still facing the inside of the room, Dipper stepped outside and started to close the door. With his hand on the doorknob, he tried to figure out the best way to seal the room off. Dipper contemplated, "Maybe I can tie this to the banister…"

A long hiss came from Dipper's right side, _"…dddddoooorrrrrkkkkk!"_

Dipper turned his head, only to see a blurred gray object swooshing towards his face. He jumped backwards in the nick of time. Feeling a small pinch on his chin, Dipper raised his hand to his face and looked back down at his fingers. The digits were smeared with bright, red blood.

"Whoa…"

He looked straight ahead, only to freeze in absolute terror at the sight before him. The Robbie-puppet stood at the other end of the hallway, still welding an extremely sharp blade.

_"…dork…"_

As if guided by invisible strings, the doll walked towards the stunned sleuth with a lifeless spring in its step. Dipper trembled as the monstrosity came closer. _"It…it moves like a scarecrow_…" he noted, _"There's no structure or joints to it!"_

The marionette dragged itself in front of the spellbound boy, and raised its blade over its head. A gleam shone in its coated eyes. The simple, line-drawn smile seemingly stretched across the wooden face as the puppet prepared to deliver the final blow to its prey.

Suddenly, a voice cried out from within Dipper's small frame; however, it wasn't his own:

"MOVE, DIPPER!" Wendy's voice shouted aloud. _"NOW!"_

Following her orders, Dipper rolled to his right, passing through the Robbie-doll's deadly swing at the last possible second. He spun around on his heels to face the threat.

"What was that?!" Dipper asked himself, _"How did she –"_

_"…dork…" _

The demonic toy's rasp brought him back to reality. It took another step and swung at Dipper with a horizontal slash. The lad dodged the slice, and quickly gripped his flashlight with both hands. Holding the light sideways, Dipper held it up to deflect the puppet's attacks.

*CLANG!* *CLANG!*

"It just keeps coming!" he said, amazed. "I can't even get a shot in!"

*CLANG!* *CLANG!*

Suddenly, the flashlight broke into two pieces, leaving Dipper completely defenseless against his attacker. The killer dummy went in for a piercing jab, forcing the cornered tween to throw the heavy remnants of his lamp at its hollow head as a last resort. The Robbie-puppet was thrown against the dark red wall.

With his enemy fallen, Dipper tried to make a break for the staircase, only to be pulled back at the last second. He turned around to see that an empty, pine-crafted hand had taken a hold of his backpack.

_"…dork…" _

Dipper cried out as he was hurled back into the banister. Slumped down on the ground, Dipper looked up to see the doll pouncing towards him, its dagger pointed descending towards his stomach.

"I have one chance…" Dipper coached himself, "I have to time _this_ just right…"

As the Robbie-figure leapt at him with a razor-pointed thrust, Dipper dropped to his backside, pushed his legs upwards, and hoisted the murderous toy over the railing. He turned around to see that the living caricature of his gothic nemesis had landed on the chandelier hanging over the entryway of the house.

The puppet slowly made its way back to its feet. Its pitch black eyes never left the quarry standing on the other side of the staircase. It took a step in Dipper's direction…

A huge groan echoed throughout the house. Dipper set his sights to the ceiling as dried paint and dust began to seep down in a runny, powdered form. All of a sudden, the chain connecting the structure gave way, sending the chandelier spiraling towards the ground.

*CRASH!*

Dipper peeped over the edge of the barrier to see the result of the intending chaos that just occurred. Countless chards of glass covered the wooden floor below him. A twisted metal rim laid bend and broken in the center of the empty room. Beneath the wreckage, the boy could make out the bits and pieces of his fallen pursuer. The wooden torso was splintered and broken into several portions. The arms and legs of the puppet, still twitching with life, were sent flying across the different corners of the room. The decapitated head landed in the middle of the debris. Even in death, the dark, black eyes continued to watch the worn-out twelve year old; a fading whisper stemmed from its sealed mouth:

_"…d-d-dork…d-d-dork…d-d-dork…"_

Safe for the moment, Dipper turned back around and leaned against the railing in order to catch his breath. He glanced across the way, towards his original destination of the leftmost door. He closed his eyes and sighed in relief, knowing that while he barely survived this trial, he wondered if he truly had what it took to help his friend and make it out of the madhouse alive…


	5. Chapter 5

_"Dipper's Journal – Entry #620_

_I must be getting closer to where Wendy is being held; the being in this house is becoming more desperate (and deadly to boot!)_

_While I knew that the spirits here wouldn't give Wendy up without a fight, I never expected that their defenses would be so…in depth…_

_I keep thinking about the melting doppelganger of Wendy as well as the killer puppet that looked exactly like Robbie. How did this place know what was in my nightmares and deepest fears?_

_As funny as it sounds, it almost feels like it was able to see into the darkest corners of my mind. I just can't explain it…_

_After the attack by the Robbie-doll, I snuck back into Lichman's master bedroom and picked up his "book of memories." The way I see it, the more evidence I have connecting him to the mysterious disappearances, the better._

_My next stop is to hit up the room on the leftmost side of the hallway. It was going to be the first place I searched, but as I was about to open the door, the marionette lured me in the opposite direction. Was it trying to prevent me from searching inside of the room? What if Wendy's in there?_

_Either way, I'm about to find out…"_

* * *

Dipper slowly opened the wooden door and carefully snuck a quick look inside of the new room. Fortunately for him, this new area was well-lit with adorning lanterns mounted to the wall, similar in fashion to the downstairs fixtures. Huge, towering cabinets covered every wall, each filled to the brim with a countless amount of hard-bound books. A small, brown stand stood in the center of the room with a short, decorative rug lying beneath it. A form of sparkled, ornamental keepsake box was placed on top of it.

"Phew," he sighed in relief. "No murderous dummies to be found…"

He closed the door behind him and started to survey the various titles of the homebound library. Dipper poked and prodded at the numerous subjects left abandoned and calling out to his curiosity.

"Geology, chemistry, parapsychology…" Dipper named off the subjects mentioned in the headings, "Every major science is represented here!" Even though the young boy would hate to admit it, part of him wished that he had extra time to sit and explore the subjects appealing to him.

As Dipper made his way to the second bookcase, a disturbing thought entered his mind: _what if this place isn't what it appears to be? _ The miniature sleuth figured that if everything he encountered in the house so far had some catch or a trick to it, then surely this library had some type of hidden secret as well. Dipper instantly became extremely anxious as the thought of his secret crush bound, gagged, and locked away behind a concealed bookcase passage flowed through the back of his mind.

"Alright…" Dipper mumbled as he analyzed every single shelf, "The way these things work in the movies is that there is a false book that acts as a switch in opening the new passageway…" He looked from row to row, searching for any sort of discrepancies that could provide a clue to where the two teenagers were taken.

He noticed that every row of the left and right bookcases was plastered with the same sticky dust that encompassed the other areas of the house. "Hmm…" Dipper ran a finger across the ledge until it turned near-pitch black, "If there was any chance of these things being used as hideaways, then they probably wouldn't be covered in this stuff. It looks like these things haven't been touched in years!"

As despair started to set in his tiny frame, an oddity in the pattern caught Dipper's eye. In the center of the middle shelf, a lone spot was cleared of the wretch filth. A green volume stuck out slightly, cleaned of the nasty dust. Standing on his tip-toes, Dipper reached upwards, catching the top of the edge of the book with his fingertips. He pulled forward slightly, expecting a hidden switch to be activated. Instead, the text slipped from his grip, falling downwards on bonking him on the forehead.

"OWW!"

Dipper rubbed his injured brow, and returned his attention to the book lying on the ground at his feet. A sense of disappointment overcame him as his last hope to an answer was extinguished. Dipper picked up the tome, where the cursive-written headed immediately caught his attention:

_"My research,"_

The twelve year old took a seat on the wooden floor and started to speed through the anecdotes in hopes of finding a clue on where to go next.

_"August 25__th__, 1982_

_I would have not believed it if I haven't seen it with my own eyes._

_It was shortly after midnight when I heard a giant explosion from the front lawn. I hurried outside and found myself spellbound by the sight set before me. As If it were a gift from the heavens themselves, a brilliant, smelting meteorite had become earthbound in my yard. Luckily for me, all of the winos in this town still remained snuggly in their beds, leaving this tremendous discovery to me, and me alone!_

_After cooling the comet enough to allow for human contact, I used the little equipment I had here at the house to extract it from the ground. I quickly modified the basement into a makeshift observatory so I can examine and research without being bothered by the outside world._

_This may be the break that I was looking for! If I find something spectacular within this specimen, I will rise to the top ranks of the scientific world once again!"_

"YEESCH!" Dipper recoiled. "It sounds like this guy kind of takes himself a bit too seriously…" The child quickly shut his mouth, as his criticisms reminded him of his own memoirs left inside of the Journal #3. In spite of the hypocrisy, he continued onwards to the next entry.

_"September 25__th__, 1982_

_It has been a month since my discovery, and yet, the emission hasn't faded from the meteor. As a matter of fact, its levels seem to be growing with every passing day!_

_I seem to be spending all of my time down there, watching in delight as this marvel from space maintains its current escalation. As I passed a hanging mirror, I stopped for a moment and noticed that my hair seemed to be thinning and my flesh had turned a sickly shade of off-yellow. As a safety precaution, I had tested my cells tested for radiation poisoning, only for the results to come out negative. Maybe I just need a little sun…_

_There will be time for fun and games when the accolades start coming in…"_

Dipper skipped through the next couple of entries, until he came across another unusual selection:

_"January 2__nd__, 1983_

_I can't contain my excitement! I think I found it! After months of endless research, I've have the discovery that will make me a legend in the scientific world!_

_This morning, the meteorite talked to me! To detail further, I had an hour-long conversation with a coat hanger! As it moved and wiggled of its own accord, it spoke to me, alerting me of the comet's wants and needs. At first, I thought I was going mad, but as always, I let science lead the way to the truth. After a careful analysis, it turns out that the colossal amount of dust that recently covered every orifice of the house is actually millions upon millions of microscopic parasites that are excreted by the meteor at an alarming rate!_

_As much as I am excited, a part of me feels quite badly. I recently fired the housekeeper for not keeping up with the dusting…"_

Dipper looked down to see that the dust covered his hands and part of his clothing. In a panic, he jumped up and swatted himself until he was brushed clean. With his curiosity growing, Dipper resumed his spot on the floor and went forward in the story:

_"March 15__th__, 1983_

_I have it! I believe I discovered the connection between all of these events!_

_For months, I watched as the near-invisible spawn of the comet spread and started to terra-form the entire basement. The concrete and structuring have been replaced with what appears similar to flesh, tissue, and sinew. I study in amazement as the pink structure moves involuntarily. It is my guess that it is attempt to make itself stronger and more durable. The other day, I could have sworn that it was pulsating, almost like it was attempting to breathe!_

_I have also uncovered what role the parasites play in all of this. Despite their vast numbers, they are able to work together in bringing inanimate objects to life! This explains the instance of the talking coat hanger amongst all of the oddities I have experienced in the last few months! While all of this is extremely exciting in theory, a part of me is actually frightened by these breakthroughs. I wonder exactly how much control the meteorite has over my house?"_

A chill spread across Dipper's body as he looked up from the book and around the room. Ever since he read that particular passage, the tween could not shake the feeling that he was watched. Dipper shook off the sentiment, chalking the experience to the mere ramblings of a crazed madman. "Still," he debated with himself, "It could explain why everyone thinks this place is haunted!" Either way, he knew he was no closer to finding Wendy's location. The determined boy stuck his nose back into the journal and fought against the sour feeling rising in the pit of his stomach.

_"March 30__th__, 1983_

_Today, the comet, or should I say, the house, made a rather-demanding request – it wished for me to assist it in feeding. It explained that in order to expand further, it needed to gather energy and build its strength. For it to do so, it required sustenance. Left without any other choice, I suggested we order out for take-out._

_The poor pizza delivery girl couldn't have been more than eighteen or nineteen years old. Probably some kid stuck with an embarrassing job in order to pay for her college. She knocked on the door I purposely left open, making it slowly creak open. With pizza box in hand, the teenager stepped inside and called out to me, the owner of the house, that their dinner had arrived. _

_I stood in the shadows at a safe distance as I watched my home joined together and worked its magic to claim its prize._

_As the girl stepped further into the foyer, the door slammed itself shut, locking itself tightly. Before she could react, a gust of wind blew through the hall and sprayed the child in the face with a thick layer of "dust." She coughed out the dirt, and attempted to swipe the remnants away. _

_A split second later, her face twisted into a genuine expression of horror. The delivery girl threw the pizza to the floor and began to hop up and down, swatting away at every aspects of her body. Her shrieks filled my empty hall, "SPIDERS! SPIDERS! THEY'RE EVERYWHERE! GET 'EM OFF! GET 'EM OFF ME!"_

_It was there that I understood the final ability of the parasites. While they were capable of controlling lifeless objects, they were not able to do the same to living, breathing organisms. For this, it appeared as if they were able to tap into its victim's psyche, exposing them to their worst fears! _

_While the young lady continued to hallucinate, I watched as the ornate rug beneath her feet rose up and knocked her to the floor. It wrapped itself around her slim figure, leaving her rolled up like a burrito. Left completely defenseless, she struggled to break free of her confinement. Only her head and sneakers stuck out of the restricted carpeting. _

_A moment later, the rug rolled on its own towards the passage to the basement. I intentionally stayed behind, unsure if I would want to see what awaited the prey at the end of her journey. I could hear her voice echoing through the hall, begging for help from her parents, her boyfriend, and lastly, her God. Unfortunately, all of her pleas and prayers went unanswered as one final scream rung through the corridor before harmony returned to my household._

_I stood speechless by the sight I had just witnessed. Had I really betrayed my humanity in the name of science? The innocent adolescent implored me to let her go, and I simply spectated as the events unfolded. It made me think of how one watches a cat play with its quarry before moving in for the final blow. _

_After a few minutes to gather my courage, I made my way to the comet's chambers, only to discover that all that remained of the delivery girl was a literal pile of bones draped in shredded remains of an uniform upon my now permanently stained imported carpet._

_A horrid notion entered my rampant thoughts as I re-watched the scene of the house working together in unholy tandem in my mind: what is to stop it from ever doing so to me?_

_I had the local towing contractor remove the woman's car from in front of the house. I made sure to pay him a bit extra to ensure that he would forget where he found it. That's the beauty of living in a secluded mountain town: greasing enough palms means that you can get away with nearly anything. Still, I wonder if adding a reserved parking sign would make it easier to draw suspicion away from this place._

_After regaining my nerves, I went to speak with the meteor, only for it to thank me for my assistance in obtaining an excellent meal. It went on to say that it preferred "the young ones" more than anything; that their adrenaline and hormones gave them a most satisfying taste. It was only when I walked away that I realized its true meaning: this wasn't the first time this had happened! My heart raced as my imagination spun off, wondering how many souls had fallen victim to the comet's monstrous appetite while in my absence._

_Because of this, I decide to follow through with my original intention. I will seal off all of the passages into the basement except for the one stemming from the ballroom. This way, I can try to maintain a sense of control of this necessary evil…" _

Dipper lifted his head and lowered it into his hands. The queasiness only increased as he could not get the screams of the ill-fated pizza delivery girl out of his mind. One sentence kept ringing over and over again in the boy's psyche, almost as if was a form of silent alarm:

_"She was…she was somebody's Wendy…"_

Despite discovering a clue on where to go next, Dipper felt the need to continue to the end of the story. Perhaps it would offer a hint on how to defeat the calamity if a confrontation was to take place. To his surprise, the following pages contained absolute nonsense.

"What?!" Dipper exclaimed as he turned page after page, "It's nothing but gibberish!"

He went through the detailing of mad ramblings until he reached the final page:

_"March 7__th__ 1996_

_After decades of pleading and catering to its every whim, it has finally agreed to my request. On this night, I finally receive my ultimate reward for my loyalty. We are to become one! A long time ago, I started all of this in order to become legendary. It is now that I realize the truth. Why settle for being a legend when I can become a god?! _

_In mere moments, I will transcend the limits of humanity and become an immortal. Unearthly powers will be at my fingertips, and I will reign supreme until the end of time!"_

Upon finishing the book, Dipper shut it tightly and reflected on the mound of information that he acquired.

"Okay," he assessed. "So, the thing was Wendy _was_ an illusion…" Dipper touched his chin to where the Robbie-puppet had wounded him earlier. It was finally starting to heal. "But that also means that the creepy doll was real, too?" The small detective found himself confused, as based on the words of the crazed scientist, the lines between fantasy and reality were completely blurred.

Dipper pocketed the evidence and started to head towards the exit. He knew that finding this so-called "ballroom" would be the key to rescuing Wendy. He gulped as the worst possible scenario crossed his mind, "…if she's still okay…"

Unpredictably, a gentle tune began to flow through the quiet atmosphere. Frozen in mid-step, Dipper turned around as the theme struck a sense of reminiscence within him. The familiar music reminded him of a tender lullaby from childhood.

The pre-teen turned around and approached the source of the noise. The melody seemed to come from the wooden box on the stand in the center of the room. As if captivated, Dipper started to hum along to the song:

_"Da-da-da-da-da,  
Da-da-da-da-da._

_Da-da-da-da-da,  
Da-da-da-da._

_Da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da,  
Da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da…"_

Despite being able to recognize the pattern, Dipper was dumbfounded in recalling what the composition belonged to. Suddenly, the top of the box opened. He peered inside to see that the device was actually a type of musical box. Various gears and mechanisms spun in coordination on every side. In the center of the toy, a tiny ballerina spun in place, dancing along with the harmony. Placing his backpack on the ground, Dipper narrowed his eyes in order to get a better look at the figurine.

The ballerina donned light green tights and leotards amid a dim-shaded tutu. Her toes were affixed in a pointe position inside of dark green ballet slippers with matching lace wrapping around each ankle to knee length. Her fire-engine red hair was neatly tied behind in a compact bun styling. Her emerald eyes stared blankly into nothingness, as if they were devoid of all life. Her freckled, pale face was just as empty, left without any form of emotion or feeling; the ruby-red lips nothing more than a tiny opening on the visage.

The mesmerized lad reached out for the minuscule girl. A whisper escaped from his mouth, _"W-Wendy?!"_

As Dipper made contact with the piece, a bright, white light flashed before his eyes…

The increasing tempo of the lullaby brought Dipper back to consciousness. The calm theme that lured him had now become a pounding in his temples. He rose to his feet and looked around his surroundings.

"Where…Where am I?"

Dipper found himself enclosed in a compacted area. Giant gears attached to every wall spun, clicked, and clacked loudly in place. He turned around to find himself looking upwards at the rotating redheaded dancer from before.

"I'm…" the boy stuttered, "_I'm inside the music box_!"

He closed his eyes and tried to regain a sense of focus. Was all this real or another illusion planted by the malevolent force infesting the abandoned house? Dipper knew that his first priority should have been trying to plan an escape, but he couldn't leave without knowing for sure. Was this caricature really Wendy?

Dipper went to touch her lime-dressed shoulder when the plastered emerald eyes opened widely. With a haunting groan, the ballerina's head moved, lowering itself to the anxious adolescent.

"Wendy?"

A split second later, her feet were released from the pedestal. The figure gyrated closer to Dipper as he tried to reason with her.

"C'mon! We have to get outta here before it's too late!"

With another cycle, the ballerina delivered an open-palmed slap across Dipper's cheek. He recoiled away in shock as he raised a hand to his injury.

"Wendy," he implored. "That really hurt!"

In spite of his whimper, the Wendy-performer took no heed and proceeded to pin him into a corner.

"Wendy, please!" Dipper begged. "I don't know what this place has done to you, but you need to wake up!" The swiveling girl came closer, forcing him to reach up and forcefully try to halt her progress. _"Right now!"_

Once his fingertips made contact with her pale flesh, Dipper realized that he had made a horrific mistake. Where warm skin should have been, the young boy could only feel the cold, hard sensation of lifeless plastic.

"Oh, no…"

With a thrust kick, the ballerina sent Dipper flying into the wall. Taking a moment to recover, he tried to stand up, only to be pulled back downwards.

"Huh?"

Using his limited mobility, Dipper turned about until he found the source of his dilemma: his navy blue vest had become entangled in between the cogs of the numerous gears surrounding the wall. Gritting his teeth, the determined boy tried pulling himself free, only to yanked down to his knees.

"AHH!" Dipper screamed as he felt the machinery pinch against his skin. He pushed upward with his feet until he heard the sound of cloth tearing. Finally free, Dipper stood up and looked to see that the metal works had claimed a huge chunk from the right shoulder of his vest. He ran his fingers up his side, only to react in pain. A huge cut now stemmed from his shoulder to his rear.

As he analyzed his side for further injuries, Dipper noticed something strange. As the gears crunched the blue cloth, they started to become jammed. The once-comforting music slowed to a turtle's pace. The Wendy-dancer also trickled down in speed until she froze in place. When the apparatus was able to work through the obstruction, all aspects of the music box returned to their regular pace.

A desperate idea quickly formed in Dipper's mind as he plotted his escape. He reached behind his back for his trusty knapsack…only to remember that he had placed it down before being whisked away into this deception.

"Crap!" Dipper slapped himself in the forehead. "What am I going to do now? There's nothing I can use to –"

His words dried up as he stared down the coiling clone of his missing friend. He knew what he had to do. Part of him fought against the choice, but the tween had to keep reminding himself, _"It's not really her…"_

Dipper lured the ballerina back towards the wall. "Come on!" he tempted. "That's right…come this way…" He dodged flying hands and feet until he reached the limit. As the last second, Dipper dove behind the dancer, and with both legs, kicked her off balance, and into the dangerous cogs. The mindless being attempted to continue its dance until the gears took a hold of her green uniform.

Springing to his feet, Dipper rushed over and held the mannequin down, ensuring that she couldn't spin out of danger's way. Once again, the essence of the music box slowed until a quiet stop. The gears struggled to continue onwards, forcing an excruciating, ear-piercing sound to echo throughout the room.

Dipper let go of the fallen performer and dropped to his knees. He shut his eyes and covered his ears as he tried his best to block out the agonizing noise. The world around him began to shake violently as another shining radiance appeared before his eyes.

Unexpectedly, everything fell silent. Dipper removed his hands and looked around to see that he was back in the library. He stood up and upon seeing his backpack, threw it back across his shoulder. Dipper seethed as the bag made contact with his latest wound.

He looked upon the stand to see that the music box where he was held captive was now smoldering. He examined the damage and noticed the crushed dancer logged in the ruined mechanics. All of a sudden, the all-so-familiar theme played one last time.

At that moment, nostalgia struck Dipper like a bolt of lightning. He grew deathly quiet as he finally recognized the tune that was played countless times in his presence. Tears filled his eyes as the song made him think of nothing else but his beloved crush. Taking the leftovers of Wendy's wrecked clone in his hands, Dipper sang in a broken and off-key voice as the last instances of life emitted from the cursed treasure:

_"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.  
You make me happy when skies are grey.  
You'll never know, dear, how much I love you…"_

Dipper sniffed as flashes of Wendy were burnt into his mind's eye.

_"Please don't take my sunshine away…"_


	6. Chapter 6

_"Dipper's Journal – Entry #621_

_I'm…I'm not even sure if I should be doing this right now…_

_Then again, if things go awry, the next person who finds this journal needs to know what they're getting themselves into. _

_After discovering the memoirs of the owner of this house, Lichman, all of the pieces of the puzzle started coming together. Based upon his own testimony, a strange meteor fell from space onto his property thirty years ago. As time passed, spores from this thing took over his home as well as drove him completely insane. In other words, the house is alive and able to control any or all aspects within. _

_To make matters worse, these symbiotes have the ability to make people have delusions and experience their worst fears. I've been infected, meaning that I can't tell if these dangers are real or all in my head!_

_The diary mentioned that the creature requires human sacrifice in order to maintain its strength, and as fate would have it, teenagers are said to be its favorite course. It also said that all of the entries to its room in the basement have been sealed off, except for a hidden one in a ballroom somewhere. _

_I can only hope that Wendy will be safe until I can reach this place. Perhaps with a little bit of luck, the comet would decide to devour Robbie first._

_This will be my final entry until I find my Wendy. If we don't make it out alive, I ask the person reading this now to do me a favor. If you could, tell the world that I…I tried my very best for her…"_

* * *

Dipper headed towards the last door in the hallway. Part of him knew that this had to be his final destination. All of the other doors on the first floor were locked tight, and the parlor room was a dead end. He asked himself, "Where else is there to go?"

He turned the doorknob and stepped inside, his mouth dropping at the sight before him. An elegant ballroom was laid out with almost-absolute perfection. Multiple dimmed lights dangled from the black ceiling. The beams reflected off the overly-polished wooden floor. Dipper could tell from the indents on the floor that furniture had been previously placed in the room for a long period of time.

"Huh," the twelve year old speculated. "So, this must be the place…" He scratched his head in confusion, "But whoever heard of putting a ballroom on the second floor?"

Dipper looked to his left and right and jumped in fright as he seen dozens of brown eyes staring back at him. A second glance revealed the truth for the nerve-wrecked boy. Huge, crystal-clear mirrors covered every part of the walls. He examined his reflection to see that his condition had only worsened. Breads of cold sweat dripped down his birth marked forehead. His dark hair was matted and sticky under his trademark blue and white trucker cap. The bags under his eyes, while no longer a sickly purple, remained as a result of his lack of sleep. His clothing was torn and splattered with faint traces of blood.

The ragged image of himself only reminded Dipper of everything that he had experienced in the last few hours. He could only wonder how much more he would have to take in order to rescue his missing crush.

Dipper made his way through the creepily quiet hallway as his countless reflections followed him in tandem. The edge of the room narrowed inwards, ending with a lone mirrored door. The tiny sleuth jiggled the handle, only to discover it was locked.

"Great…" he moaned as Dipper dropped to one knee and started going through his backpack in search of his lock picking tools. Upon finding them, he went back to his original position in front of the entry. As soon as his pick-tool touched the door, someone called out for him:

_"Dipper, it's time…"_

A shiver traveled down his spine as he recognized the voice; only this time, the tone didn't belong to Wendy. He stood up and walked to the center of the room in order to track down the sound.

_"Dipper, it's time to stop this and come home…"_

He turned to each side to see the likeness of his twin sister in the mirrors.

"Dipper," Mabel beckoned from the glass surface, "You've been playing in the darkness for far too long." The dual images each placed a hand on their respective mirror. "_Wendy isn't waiting for you to save her…_"

The tween couldn't believe his eyes. Was this another trick of the ghastly space creature, or some sort of psychic experience? He argued at his sibling, going back and forth between the split reflections, "But you're wrong, Mabel! Wendy is here! I've found proof that she's…"

"You gotta listen to your sister, kid!" Dipper spun around to see that the form of his great-uncle appeared in another set of mirrors. "It's like I said before_:' sometimes, loved ones are taken from your life, and there's nothing you can do about it…'" _

"Why won't you guys listen to me?!" the boy shouted back at his Grunkle Stan. "She's going to die unless I do something!"

Dipper noticed that the shape of Soos, the friendly handyman, appeared in the rest of the empty spots. He glanced back and forth, only to face the stunned child. "Yes!" the stout men exclaimed at the same time with an arm pump downwards, "Soos gets a cameo!"

All of the voices rose and blended together, making Dipper's head throb. He covered his ears in an attempt to block out of the negativity trying to bring him down. Dipper turned around and saw something in the locked mirrored door that made his heart drop.

From behind the reflective surface, his redheaded crush materialized safe and sound. To his surprise, the teenaged girl crossed her arms and returned an annoyed stare.

"You should have listened to them, Dipper." Wendy chastised as she beaded her brow further at her secret admirer. "Who said I needed your help? Or that I wanted you to find me in the first place?"

"How can you say that, Wendy?!" her heartbroken friend replied as he threw his arms outwards. "Don't you know how worried I've been about you, or…" His voice broke before his next sentiment, "…or how much I missed you?"

"Why would she miss you, twerp…when she's got _me_ to keep her company?"

From out of the nothingness, Robbie V. walked into the picture and affectionately put his arm around the ginger, bringing a disturbing smile to her freckled face.

"You know he's right, Dipper." Wendy continued on, "Why should I settle for _you_ when a _real man_ is only inches away?"

Dipper rotated around in circles as every spectrum of the room was filled with ghostly versions of his family and friends (and Robbie). All of their mocking and teasing chipped away at the small detective's psyche until he became dizzy and short of breath.

"Am…Am I having a panic attack?"

The world seemed to spin into a blur as Dipper fell to his knees. Once more, he placed his hands over his ears in an attempt to drown out the horrid noise, only to find it did very little to halt the pain.

"S-S-Stop it!"

Dipper shut his eyes as he squeezed his head harder. No matter where he turned, the sound seemed to surround him.

"I said, stop it!"

The echo was literally on top of the poor child! It was almost as if they all were having a shouting match within the corridors of his mind.

With a thrust filled with rage, Dipper raised his head skywards and shrieked to the top of his lungs:

"I SAID SHUT UP! ALL OF YOU SHUT UP, AND LEAVE ME ALONE!"

At that moment, every single mirror shattered all at once, leaving hundreds of destroyed shards blanketed over the floor. For nearly an eternity, the resonance rang through the entire complex. Once it faded away, Dipper lowered his defenses and examined the collateral damage around him.

"I…" the emotionally-ruined adolescent stuttered, twisting his words into a weakly chuckle, "I…I knew they weren't real…*hehe* I knew it all along...just another illusion…" Dipper gathered his strength and made it back to his feet. He returned to the remaining sealed door to try to pry it open, unaware of the impending danger behind him.

Without alerting the hard-at-work pubescent, the broken shards began to vibrate on the hardwood ground. As if by magic, they moved of their own accord, shifting into several individual piles. The groups climbed on top of each other, reassembling themselves in near-perfect harmony.

_"Dipper…" _

The whisper made in his sister's voice had Dipper freeze in place. With a sense of hesitation, he slowly turned around, only to have his wrist seized. He gasped as the identity of his attacker was revealed.

_"What about now, Dipper?" _ A scale model of his twin stood before him. Made of thousands of broken slivers of glass, the deformed double of Mabel gave a pointy-braced smile. Despite its ability to move freely in reality, the most haunting aspect was that the jagged image remained in two dimensions, as if it was a broken, twisted cartoon character that came to life. It tightened its grip on Dipper's hand, making him howl in pain. He pulled his arm back, only to have several cuts form.

Gripping his injured limb, Dipper raised his eyes to see that behind the monstrous structure that dozens more like her lied in wait of his next move. Numerous copies of Mabel, Soos, Grunkle Stan, Robbie, and even Wendy stared at him with murderous intent.

_"Do you still think we're not real?"_

Out of reflex, Dipper scooped up his knapsack, using it a divider between him and the fiends closing in on him, "B-B-Back off, man! I mean it!"

The Mabel-creature hoisted her arms towards the defensive youngster. "_Come on, Dipper,"_ she mocked. _"Isn't this what you wanted? To find out what happened to Wendy? To see what waits for you in the shadows? Well, here we are, Dipper. Is it everything you'd hope for?"_

"I'm warning you: stay away from me!"

The entire room exploded with cruel-hearted laughter. All of the mirror-clones poked fun at the defiant rescuer.

_"Or you'll do what, Dipper?" _ She took another step closer.

Left without any other option, Dipper gripped his backpack tightly, closed his eyes, and threw it through the effigy with all of his might.

*SMASH!*

He opened his eyes to see that the form was broken into a million pieces. Somewhat shocked by his own actions, Dipper lifted his head in the direction of the other mirror monsters, which stood awestruck by the destruction of one of their own.

The Stan closest to Dipper pointed straight at him and shouted, _"Get him!"_

Without thinking twice, Dipper hoisted his backpack up and blindly swung at the glass menaces heading for him. The world became a shiny blur as he felt the frequent pricks and pokes from his foes while he continued his onslaught.

*CRASH!*

*SHATTER!*

*CRUNCH!*

Moments later, as the room fell silent, Dipper stopped in place, completely dizzy, and nearly keeling over from exhaustion. Trying desperately to catch his breath, the fatigued pre-teen looked at the once-mirrored door to see that one last creature remained, taking the form of his beloved friend.

The Wendy-clone simply smiled as it crossed its arms with confidence. "Really, kid?" it responded in the ginger's voice, "Is that _everything_ you had?"

Dipper silently stared at the multi-surfaced being as he continued to pant. He squeezed his weapon tighter, bringing forth a stinging sensation in his hands; the new wounds stemming from the sharpened shrapnel of his adversaries during battle.

"HA!" The mirror Wendy laughed at Dipper's serious tone. "As if you'd raise a finger against me! I know you better than that! After all, you love _me_ with everything you have!"

He simply whispered under his panted breath, "You're not her…"

It lowered its arms and placed curled fists against its sides, "Tell you what, Dipper…" Suddenly, Wendy's sweetened tone was replaced with a dark, low-key pitch. "Give up now, and I swear, we'll take you to her!" The demon flashed a tooth-filled grin, "_You can watch as we peel the flesh off her bones_!"

With torn backpack held overhead, Dipper rushed at the final obstacle, "YOU'RE NOT HER!"

The Wendy-fiend roared and dashed head on, extending its razor-edged digits towards its prey.

*CRACK!*

Dipper skidded to a halt, dropping his busted knapsack into the ground. He looked over his shoulder to see the last bit of broken shards of glass noisily fall onto the wooden floor. Dipper sighed in relief as another trap was successfully conquered. As a sense of guilt crept up at the back of his mind, he was forced to remind himself again, "_That wasn't really her…"_

*G-G-G-R-R-R-O-O-A-A-N-N!*

The previously locked door slowly slithered open, letting a beam of yellow light into the dank room. With a renewed purpose, Dipper grabbed his battle-worn knapsack, placed the remaining strap around his sore shoulder, and threw his weight against the door.

"I…I don't believe it!"

Instead of the secret passageway he expected, Dipper faced a surprisingly spotless bathroom. White porcelain covered the entire room, from the affixed toilet (with fluffy purple covering) to the shining sink complete with metal faucets. Clean purple towels were draped over golden racks without as much as a spot of dust (or space organism) on them.

"But what…" Dipper was left speechless by his discovery. He pulled at his hair in confusion, "I don't get it! I followed his memoirs to the letter! Where is the hidden path?!" Dipper gripped the sink and looked in the mirror, only to see the same image of the weary and brow-beaten pre-teen that stalked him in the ballroom's reflections.

With a dejected moan, Dipper turned around and headed towards the exit. He figured that the most reasonable step was to regroup in the main hallway and review Lichman's notes for more clues. Dipper grabbed the door handle and started to close the entrance as he made his leave. He spun around and noticed in the mirror than something was hanging on the back of the door.

Dipper immediately jumped back and slammed the panel shut. He looked upwards to see that a strange painting was mounted on the door. The oil-based imagery was of a man looking into a bathroom mirror in a setting very similar to the one he found himself in at the moment. The most haunting detail was that behind the mirror in the drawing, a pair of teenagers, one male, one female, were pounding on the glass surface, as if to alert the person on the other side of their presence.

"Huh…"

Reaching for his tattered knapsack, Dipper pulled back and carefully hurled it through the mirror hanging overhead. The majority of the glass fell backwards into a huge gaping hole in the wall. The remnants of his supplies were heard landing on the other side several seconds later with a soft, distant *BOOM!*

Dipper climbed into the sink, making sure not to slice himself on any fallen shards, and peered into the new-found area. A narrow, white staircase faded far into the darkness. He pulled himself upwards, and with a sense of pause, placed a careful foot on the first rung. Seeing that it was sturdy, Dipper slid into the other side of the mirror and made his way step-by-step into the distance.

After what seemed like an eternity of careful pacing, the encouraged admirer finally could make out a dimming light at the end of the flight of steps. With a goal in sight, Dipper increased his pace vastly. Upon reaching the bottom, he overstepped the random leftovers of his backpack and examined his new surroundings.

"Whoa…"

Dipper found himself in what appeared to be some sort of underground prison. Designed to look like a form of wretched, disgusting cavern, the walls were covered with heavy metal shackles and fetters welded in place. Several loose and aged articles of clothing, such as jackets, shirts, pants, and nearly every type of footwear possible were spread throughout every aspect of the room. Dipper could tell from the various styles represented that much of it could have been left down in the reformatory for _decades_. Tiny, iron casted cages hung from the ceilings by rusted chains connecting to pulleys, gently swayed back and forth due to the chilling breeze flowing across the passage.

He spied around to see that another opening led deeper into the house's nether regions. As Dipper headed towards the road, a drained voice cried out for him:

"Hey, kid! Kid! Look up here!"

Dipper froze in mid-step and looked around the room.

"Over here, junior!"

He followed the voice to the right hand corner of the jail. Looking overhead, Dipper spotted the grimy, haggard form of his romantic rival, Robbie V. imprisoned in one of the miniature enclosures. Cramped into a kneeling position, the goth clutched the metal bars with both hands, shaking them ever so slightly as he addressed his rescuer.

"I can't believe I'm saying this," Robbie admitted. "But I'm actually _glad_ to see you! C'mon! Let me down before that thing comes back!"

"Hang on!" Dipper remained still. "If you're here, then where's Wendy?!"

Robbie frowned and shook his head, "I dunno. It kept her in the chains against the wall. The last time I came to, she was already gone…" He used his head to point towards the next room, "Whatever it is, it keeps coming from over there!"

As soon as Robbie finished his story, Dipper rushed towards the next destination. "Wait a minute!" the teenager demanded, "Where do you think you're going?!"

Dipper stopped in his tracks, "I have to go save Wendy before it's too late!"

He rattled harder within his constriction, "You have to let me down! You can't leave me like this!"

The boy pointed up at his competitor, "And why shouldn't I?" Dipper demanded. "You're the reason Wendy's in danger!"

"What?!"

"You think I don't know!" Dipper shot back. "Tell me, Robbie! Why would you take her to a place like this, especially after everything we went through at the convenience store?!"

After a moment of stuttering, Robbie lowered his head and mumbled the truth, "I…I wanted to show her that I was braver than you…"

Dipper crossed his arms, "As far as I'm concerned, it's your fault that Wendy's about to get eaten by this place!" He started again towards the next area, "You can stay up there until I get back with her!"

"Don't you even think about it!" Robbie threatened, "I swear, you little punk! I'll make you so sorry…"

Robbie stopped as he realized that Dipper was already out of sight. He closed his eyes in anger and banged on the bars as loud as he could.

"Fine, you little brat!" The gothic guitar player screamed to the top of his lungs. "You just remember one thing: if _anything_ happens to me, _Wendy will never forgive you for it!_ No matter what you say, or what excuse you come up with, _she'll hate your guts for letting me die like this!"_

Leaning his head against the bars, Robbie reflected on his choice of words, making him wonder if perhaps using a different approach to the angered tween would have guaranteed his freedom.

All of a sudden, Robbie heard a strange creak coming from above him. He tried his best to see the source of the noise in spite of his confinement. A few second later, the chain holding his cage up in the air gave way, dropping the teen towards the ground at an alarming speed!

*BAM!*

Upon regaining his senses, Robbie noticed that the collision had broken the bars of the cage. With little difficulty, he slithered out of his cell, and flipped onto his back with a sigh, extending his limbs in order to regain their feeling.

In the distance, Robbie could make out a gentle *WHIRL* sound. His dark eyes scanned the wall until he noticed that the pulley supporting his former prison had been loosen, its wooden crank rotating as if on its own accord.

Robbie lowered his head, as he struggled to regain his strength, his thoughts shifting to the boy who decided against his best judgment to show him a shred of mercy, even if he didn't deserve it.

In his self-imposed darkness, Robbie forced himself to express a tiny sample of gratitude, knowing that Dipper would never be able to hear the gesture:

_"T-T-Thank you…"_


	7. Chapter 7

Dipper continued into the depths of the animated complex in search of his captive crush. Trekking further from the light, he reflected upon the words of his newly-freed romantic rival. "How long has it been since Wendy was taken from that awful place?" he asked himself. "What if I'm already too –" Dipper shook away his negativity. His gut told him that there was still time; that his quest would not in vain.

As the determined boy hurried forward, he could make out a sickening squishing sound. Strangely enough, the noise didn't come from the soft ground beneath his sneakers, but rather the walls and ceiling around him. Unable to see the truth for himself, Dipper pushed his concerns into the pit of his stomach, resulting in a sudden outbreak of goose flesh. He knew that he hadn't a second to waste worrying about unnecessary factors.

After a few minutes stumbling around in the shadows, Dipper could make out a shining in the darkness. He dashed towards the beacon to discover that it was a lone torch branching out from a holder embedded in the floor. Being careful to avoid getting a splinter stuck in his palm, Dipper lifted the lantern from its holster and raised it upwards to illuminate his way.

Finally able to make out his surroundings, Dipper took a step back and gasped aloud in horror, nearly dropping his only means of visibility in the process.

Instead of finding the passage to be made of brick, mortar, or concrete, the young detective saw that everything was formed from a spongy pink material. Dipper watched in awe as the substance pulsated of its own accord, as if it were breathing.

Still, he couldn't resist the temptation of his curiosity. With his free hand, Dipper reached at the membrane-like matter, only to have something from within the wall push back in his direction! He jumped backwards, observing the bump move wildly about in an attempt to break through its bond.

Making sure to keep his distance, Dipper ventured deeper into the dismal abyss, figuring that the horrible truth behind the oddity was probably more trouble than what it was worth.

Using the torch as his only source of guidance, the twelve-year-old blindly maintained his pre-set course. He noticed that the pathway started to increase in both length and width. A moment later, Dipper found himself standing over a deep descent. He looked around to see that he was at the entrance of a colossal room. From top to bottom, every aspect of the area was coated in the same throbbing, cotton-candy-like textile.

However, he found himself captivated by another ghastly detail: the region was supported by what appeared to be actual bone structures. The wiggling ceiling was held together by a long, curved white bar that reminded Dipper of a spinal cord. Each wall had similar formations, having no less than half a dozen "bones" on each side. Dipper gazed ahead to see that the bump in the road had pointy, white steps leading to another lengthy ivory bar that stretched across from one end of the chamber to the other. Several pointed spikes, similar to nature to the skeletal formations, poked up from the sticky surface.

After studying the sickly design, Dipper pulled back as he comprehended the sight before him, _"It's…It's a rib cage!"_

A series of lamps, similar to the one Dipper kept in his grasp, were tactically placed alongside the edges of the space, giving the atmosphere a dim, yet creepy pink glow. Dipper carefully inched his way down the slope, using the bony steps as a guide, and into the center of the room. His eyes spied a clustered circle of flames with something massive in the middle. In between the ring of torches, a giant red rock shone on and off as if it was a form of alert. Nestled deep within in the soft ground in a twisted sort of shrine, the crater-filled boulder seemed to quietly moan, giving off a tremendous form of heat, forcing Dipper to skip back.

"The meteorite!" Dipper recognized the stone from the mad ramblings of the house's owner. He stopped in his tracks, making sure not to get too close to the dangerous space catastrophe. "People think I'm crazy already; the last thing I need is for this thing to make me ten times worse!"

Another series of groans made Dipper's ears perk up. He turned around, realizing that the sounds were not coming from the flashing comet, but rather behind him. Dipper turned around in search of the source of the noise.

He hoisted his torch upwards to get a better look at what exactly was making the pained whines. He quickly covered his mouth as the awful truth was revealed.

A young woman was literally embedded in the gooey wall. Her tangled, pinkish-white hair draped over her face. Her head hung without any signs of life, save for her lips gently mouthing cries of anguish. Her pale face was devoid of any color; her skin lost some of its elasticity, resulting in abnormal wrinkles in various places. The girl's lengthy arms were stretched outwards and pinned down in pink webbing. Shreds of a green flannel and a stained white tee were all that remained on her top half. Snuggly-fitted blue jeans were torn off at her knees. Her bare feet dangled freely in mid-air.

"Ohhh…"

Dipper narrowed his eyes harder; the tiny snivel sent waves of remembrance through his mind.

"It can't be…"

The light-colored hair parted from the covered face as the entombed figure moved briefly, exposing a trademark pair of freckles that he would know anywhere.

"WENDY!"

Her secret admirer implanted his light into the ground as he flew into a full-blown panic!

"OHMANOHMANOHMAN!" Dipper placed his hands against the sides of his head as tried to come up with a strategy to free Wendy from her imprisonment. She let out another weep, only to have the entire compound squirm in delight immediately afterwards.

"It's…_hurting her_!" Dipper recoiled in disgust, "And it's enjoying _every second of it_!"

The small sleuth quickly shooed away all doubts. He had to stop this at once!

Without thinking, Dipper sped forward and leapt at his main squeeze. In spite of his short standing, he was able to reach up and snag Wendy by her ankles. Standing on his tip-toes, Dipper closed his eyes, grit his teeth, and pulled back as hard as he could.

"AHH!"

He reopened his eyes to see that in spite of her wailing, Wendy was slowly, but surely being separated from the wall. With every inch, the uneasy sound of *POP!* *POP!* *POP!* could be heard throughout the quiet ambiance. With one last tug, Wendy slid from her adhesive prison and landed softly on the flesh-colored flooring.

"WENDY!" Dipper flew onto his knees and slid an arm under the unconsciousness teenager, hoisting her up to his level. "Wendy!" the worried boy shook her gently in hopes of waking her. "Are you alright?! Say _something_! _Anything_! _Please_! Just, let me know you're okay!"

Seeing no response from his friend, Dipper lowered his head as his thoughts turned to despair…

*GASP!*

Wendy shot upwards, lifting herself out of Dipper's grasp. Her emerald eyes shot open as she let out a series of coughing jags. The redhead froze for a moment, making deep breath after deep breath, as Dipper watched in total disbelief from his distance. Wendy gradually twisted her head around, before focusing her sights solely on her young rescuer.

The two stared silently for what seemed like an eternity. Dipper couldn't believe his eyes. Was this really his missing partner-in-crime, or another cruel trick by the benevolent force controlling the house? He wanted nothing more but to throw his arms around his crush and tell her how much he missed her, but after everything that had happened today, Dipper found himself unable to tell if this very moment was based in reality or not.

Wendy went to speak, only to start choking again. Her concerned buddy went to help, only to be have the girl hold out a hand to halt him. Once her lungs were clear, Wendy made another attempt:

"I…"

Dipper leaned closer, "Are you okay?"

The ginger tried to spit out the words, only to have mangled, unintelligible language come out of her mouth. Upon hearing herself speak absolute gibberish, Wendy grew frustrated and let out a series of angry grunts.

_"Oh, no…"_ Dipper bemoaned to himself, _"I think she's in shock…"_

"Hey…" he put a supportive hand on her shoulder. "Take your time. You've been through a lot…"

"I…"

Dipper nodded along, encouraging his companion's progress.

"I…knew…"

Without warning, Wendy jumped at Dipper and wrapped her arms around the boy's shorten form, making him freeze in astonishment. She lowered her head on his left shoulder and started to sob lightly, _"I knew you'd hear me…"_

The imagery of Wendy calling out to him from the dreamscape instantly came to mind. Fighting the overwhelming urge to start bawling himself, Dipper returned the sentiment and clutched her as hard as he could. At long last, the unwavering pre-teen knew that, without a doubt, he had finally found _his Wendy_.

After a moment of well-deserved peace together, Dipper pulled back, "Okay…we gotta get outta here ASAP!"

Wendy dipped her head in response. She went to stand up, only to have her legs give out beneath her. Dipper dove and caught the dazed teen at the last second. He placed one of her arms around his back and helped her upwards.

"Put your weight on me," Dipper instructed. "Take it easy; go bit by bit if you have to."

They spun around and started to shamble for the exit. As they walked, Wendy attempted to mutter,

"Sorry…"

Dipper was brought to a standstill. He looked up at Wendy, "Wha…? What did you say?"

The fifteen-year-old stared downwards with saddened eyes, "Sorry…sorry…I…I'm…grr…" Once again, Wendy's throat felt like it was going to collapse at any second.

Her friend was dumbstruck by her admission, even going as far as to let out a confused chuckle, "Sorry?! What would _you_ have to be "sorry" about?"

Wendy tried her best to explain her thoughts, only to have more nonsensical expressions come out instead. Dipper raised an eyebrow at her action, attempting to figure out what she was struggling to say.

"I…so…ergh!"

Fed up, Wendy reached over with her free hand towards Dipper's. Unexpectedly, she stuck out her pinkie finger, and wrapped it tightly around his. With their hands untwined, Wendy lifted them up to Dipper's face in hopes that he would understand her intention.

Completely stunned, Dipper could do nothing but gawk at the sight. He shifted his head slightly to see that his gingered cohort offered a minuscule, yet heartfelt smirk.

_"Even after everything she's been put though…"_ Dipper reflected, turning away from Wendy so that she wouldn't see the few lone tears steam down his cheeks. _"…she still remembers…she didn't forget about me either…"_

"Don't…*SNIFFLE*…Don't you worry about that…" the pint-sized liberator reassured her as he wiped his face clean, "There are more important things …" Dipper cut himself off as he noticed something bizarre on the edge of Wendy's arm: a series of tiny puncture wounds covered her flesh. He peeked behind her to see that _thousands_ of holes marked her backside, from the top of her neck to the bottoms of her heels.

"What the - ?" Dipper pulled back to look his tormented sweetheart in her green eyes, "What did they do to you?"

Wendy opened her mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by a booming voice: "_I can answer that for you, dear boy,"_ the tone echoed. _"Long passed are the days where our meals were in ample supply. For this, we have to make our food last as long as we can…"_

Upon recognizing the menacing tenor, Wendy involuntarily quivered in Dipper's embrace, letting out a series of worried whimpers as she tightened her grip on her buddy. Noticing her terrified reaction, Dipper looked around the room to see where the resonance was coming from.

_"I admit," _the narrator persisted, _"I prefer the times when we were able to joyfully tear apart and devour our provisions like buffalo-styled chicken wings, but alas, one must do whatever is necessary to survive in this day and age…"_

Following the increasing clamor, Dipper whirled around to face the wall where Wendy was strung up by the mysterious pink bindings. He watched in terror as the material fidgeted on its own according, creating a part in between the two sides. A giant eyeball came forth from within the substance. The eyelid rose as the massive black pupil scanned the horizon before focusing on the two kids before it.

_"…but then again, you of all people should know about that, wouldn't you, Mr. Pines?"_

Wendy shrieked at the ghoulish display before lowering herself on Dipper's shoulder; her speech reduced to dreadful murmurs as she shook her head back and forth, _"No! No more! No more! Not again!"_

Angered by seeing his secret love's weakened state, Dipper forced himself to address Wendy's captor, "Dr. Lichman, I presume?"

The eyeball narrowed itself at the pre-teen, _"Very good, my boy, very good! I would be lying if I said I didn't admire your iron will and tenacity. Then again, such things are a necessity for real men of science like us!"_

"Don't lump me in with you!" Dipper barked back, "I didn't betray my humanity to become a one-eyed freak! And how do know all this stuff about me anyways?"

"_Oh_, _a freak_ _am I?"_ the eyeball laughed. _"Am I not an immortal? The people of this wretched town cannot mention my name without trembling in dread, even years after I shed my earthly form. I am beyond the limits of mere humanity. I am legend; a living myth that will exist until in the end of days! And to answer your question, I have my ways. You see, child, this entire house is my eyes and ears. There isn't a spot in this place where you can hide! Furthermore, when a *AHEM* person "joins" our humble abode, we become one, in body, mind, and soul. Your lady friend there was able to tell me so much about you without saying a single word!"_

Dipper glanced back at the still-weary teenager in his arms, "So that's why Wendy seems like she's zombified…"

"_Despite your lack of a better term_," the monster blinked at him, "_that's precisely the case. The process was only halfway complete before you interrupted. .._" The bulbous creature raised a snide overtone to its voice, "_I don't bother you while you're eating, do I?_"

"Are you kidding me? You expect to stand there while you're doing that to…"

_"Yes, yes…"_ the demonic entity mocked, _"I know; to your Wendy. Frankly, Dipper, my lad, I find the bond that you two share to be extraordinary. I have seen many call out for their loved ones while in my clutches, but for someone to actually respond and make it this far…well, the scientist in me wishes I can observe the both of you much more closely, but I digress, the hunger…it's far too strong…too demanding…"_

"Sorry, man…" Dipper lifted Wendy, and started to resume his way to the basement's entrance, "It looks like dinner's cancelled…" The friends limped to the way out, only to see the path seal itself tightly with a pink layering.

_"Oh, I beg to differ…"_

Dipper looked over his shoulder to see that the Lichman eyeball bobbing up and down excitedly, _"I'm afraid I've grown too fond of Miss Corduroy just to let her go so easily…_" The murderous being turned a blood red. "_To put it bluntly, you're not leaving with my main course_!"

Before Dipper could react, dozens of tendrils plowed from the barrier where Wendy was previously held. The skin-colored tentacles jolted at the defenseless adolescents with lightning speed!

"D-Dipper!"

The freckled-faced teen was quickly seized by her wrist. Another vine wrapped itself around her ankle. Dipper could feel that his grip on Wendy was loosening. More lines encircled the broken teen until one final one yanked her into the air by her waist.

"No!" Dipper cried out as he reached out for her hands. "Wendy!"

A remaining tendril whipped itself against the twelve year old, sending him flying against one of the pointed obstacles surrounding the meteor. In the throes of a throbbing headache and utter dizziness, Dipper could only make out the chaotic blend of Wendy's screams and protests and Lichman's cruel laughter.

With his last ounce of strength, Dipper rose to his feet. He watched in alarm as Wendy was pulled through the sky by the horrifying tentacles despite her constant struggling and kicking.

"I have to…I have to do something now!" Dipper reassured himself. "Or else, I'll lose her forever!"

Scanning the area for anything that could be used as a weapon, Dipper set his sights on the torch he had set down while rescuing Wendy. He swiftly plucked the pointed lantern from the soft ground, and with a single thrust, hurled it through the gloating eyeball with a stomach-turning *SQUISH!*

"AAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHH!"

The entire cavern trembled as the living dwelling yelled out in agony. Dipper watched as the flame from the lamp traveled from the stick and within a matter of seconds, extended across the skin-like structure like wildfire, making the monster howl even louder.

The vines holding Wendy hostage promptly dropped the teen into the ground as they soared to the source of the damage, pounding themselves against the fire in an effort to put it out.

"Fire…" Dipper began to strategize his enemy's downfall. "That's the ticket!" He turned on his heels and attempted to remove the affixed torches from the meteorite's shrine. Unfortunately, he wasn't strong enough to break the seal on the structure.

"Rats! What else do I have that can –"

Dipper stopped himself as he formed an idea. He reached into his blue vest and pulled out the confiscated memoirs of Dr. Lichman. While he would have preferred to have some sort of evidence for this nightmare, Dipper knew that guaranteeing his and Wendy's survival was, without question, more important than anything else.

Lighting the edges of the books, Dipper threw an emblazed tome into each corner of the room. Within countless moments, he found himself staring at a literal wall of fire! In spite of the tendrils' best efforts, there weren't enough to go around to extinguish the constantly spreading combustion.

_"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"_ the house quaked. _"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?!"_

The inferno continued upwards to the ceiling, making several chunks of the white bony support break away and fall towards the ground. Dipper dove away at the last minute as a gigantic piece landed on top of the devilish comet, smashing it violently to smithereens.

A breeze of cool air entered the room. Dipper looked behind him to see that the entry back to the surface was wide open. Realizing that they were no longer trapped, the frantic pre-teen hasten to his fallen crush's side.

"C'mon, Wendy…" he helped her back to her feet. "I think that's our cue…"

Reunited, Wendy and Dipper wobbled towards their egress. Just before they made their escape, the dying monster made one demand:

_"Why? Why couldn't I make you afraid?"_

Hesitating for a second, the triumphant detective thought of an answer, "You're wrong. You did make me afraid…"

He gaped at the half-conscious girl held firmly in his arms, "…but in the end, _it only made me want to be stronger for her_…"

They walked together past the narrow chamber, guided by the orange-red light that the persisting fire provided. Dipper saw the eerie bumps from before maneuver about on both sides of the wall. As the duo pressed on, numerous bony hands broke through the covering. The decomposed fingers twisted and turned, reaching out for anything they could take a hold of.

_"Help us…"_

_"Release us…"_

_"Take us with you…"_

_"Don't leave us like this…"_

Wendy's green eyes widened at the horrendous scene before her, "Dipper…"

Dipper reached behind her and gently pushed forward, "It's okay…it's not real…" he fibbed. "_It's not real…_" The tween wished that he could save all of the people begging for his assistance, but their appearance revealed the awful truth: _they were undead_, brought to life by their connection to the strange dwelling. As they passed through the hollow, Dipper prayed that the tormented souls would find solace as the flame consumed the awful place. He shuddered at the thought in which his favorite redhead was moments away from joining their accused fate.

The pair fumbled their way through the darken path until they reached the holding cells where Wendy and Robbie were held prisoner. Dipper spotted the wrecked cage where he had left his gothic nemesis, only to discover that it was now empty. He shook his head, groaning under his breath "Coward…he only cared about saving his own hide…"

As if she heard Dipper's complaints, Wendy raised her head and looked around the area. "Robbie…" she mumbled, trying to maintain her vigor, "We have to get him…"

Reluctantly, her irritated admirer calmed her worries, "He's fine. I got him out before I found you."

Wendy offered a grateful grin, "Thank you…_I can always count on you_…" Her head dropped as she faded away once more with a moan, making Dipper reassess his positioning.

"Of course you can…" he whispered, knowing that she couldn't hear him. He rolled his eyes, "That's more than you could say for _some people_…"

With great effort, Dipper assisted his crush in making her way up the seemingly-everlasting staircase back to the bathroom leading into the mirrored ballroom. Gripping Wendy by the hands, Dipper climbed first through the hole and onto the porcelain, carefully guiding his secret love step by step.

He threw open the door to the ballroom, only to pause at the scene before him. Previously, he had battled an innumerable amount of mirror monsters in the form of his family and friends in the same spot, leaving the once-shiny floor blanketed with sharp spikes of glass; a fact that would make further travel with a shoeless companion nearly impossible.

Dipper overlooked Wendy, who was still fraught from her traumatic experiences. "She can barely stand by herself, yet alone be agile enough to avoid all that glass…" As he attempted to figure out a new game plan, Dipper gulped as he could hear the roar of the fire from behind him.

"What am I going to –"

Suddenly, a figure dressed in black rushed in from the ballroom entrance, "Hang on, kid! I'm coming!"

The slender form of Robbie V. darted through the hazards spread across the floor. Seeing the situation that his girlfriend faced, he automatically flew to Wendy's other side and put her free arm around his shoulder.

"About time you showed up to help…" Dipper cracked wise.

"Just shut up and lift…" The goth bend down and elevated the ginger's right leg slightly. "On three…"

Dipper followed suit and threw his full weight against Wendy's left knee. With their combined strength, the super-skinny, noodle- armed boys were able to raise their slender love off the hazardous ground just enough to avoid injuring her exposed peds.

"Now, move!"

Robbie and Dipper hurried through the room with Wendy in tow. As soon as they exited the ballroom, the two gently set their girl down as they panted and keeled over in exhaustion.

"No offense, dork," Robbie coughed out, "but you gotta start working out or something…"

Dipper raised his head towards the teenager with enlarged eyes, "Are you kidding me, man?"

Before they had a chance to start a petty argument, a giant fireball ripped through the remnants of the ballroom with an ear-deafening *KA-BOOM!* The violent force knocked all three adolescents off of their feet. The engulfed house creaked and moaned as the fire rose to the surface level as if the structure was screaming in pain-filled suffering!

Dipper was the first to make it back to his feet, his sights locked on the inferno slowly bearing down on him. He hastened to Wendy's side and cautiously aided her back to a standing position. Robbie shortly followed suit and supported her from the other side.

"We have to hurry! Or else, we'll be burned to a crisp!"

"No kidding, Sherlock!"

The boys went step by step down the stairs, trying their best not to overburden their injured friend, but at the same time, making sure not to dally more than necessary. Upon reaching the last step, Dipper pointed out with his free hand, "Look! The exit's over there!"

Dipper and Robbie carried Wendy around the wreckage of the fallen chandelier. All of a sudden, they were jerked to a stop.

"Huh?!" the goth questioned in surprise, "What's the hold-up?"

As the two pulled more, Wendy finally broke her silence, letting out a strained yelp. Dipper looked downward to see what they were caught on, only to gasp at the truth of the matter: a small, wooden hand pinned under a pile of rubble reached out from the debris and held Wendy's left foot in a death grip.

"It's Wendy…" Dipper explained, kicking at the hand with no prevail. "She's stuck! The Robbie-doll's got her!"

"The what?!"

"Nevermind that! We gotta make it let her go!"

"So how do we do that?!"

Before Dipper could reply, a raspy whisper could be heard in the rubble:

_"Stay! Stay! Don't leave! Can't leave!"_

"The head!" Dipper ordered, motioning towards the ruins, "Follow the sound and destroy the head!"

Robbie caringly let go of his girlfriend, shifting the weight onto her young charge. The teen scurried into the bits and pieces while following the fading sound. After a few seconds of searching through the garbage, Robbie found his objective. He recoiled at the sight of a ventriloquist dummy's head, talking and blinking of its own accord, modeled in his own image.

The goth picked up a nearby piece of lumber and with a wimpy battle growl, slammed it as hard as he could on the timber monster's head, reducing it to a pile of splinters. Wendy let out a sigh of relief as the hold on her ankle was finally released as the puppet's arm returned to its formerly lifeless state.

Robbie returned to Wendy's left side as he asked Dipper, "Do I even want to know why –"

Dipper cut him off, shaking his head back and forth, "Trust me; you really don't…"

The trio finally reached the exit of the house. Hearing a fierce pounding, Dipper turned his head towards the parlor to see that the furniture had come to life and thrashed wildly all over the place.

"Forget about that!" Robbie chastised. "Let's go, NOW!"

The child reached for the doorknob, only to have it move on its own. The door flew open, revealing a confused-looking Mabel Pines standing on the porch.

"Dipper, what's going on?" she questioned. "Soos and I saw fire and we got wor –"

Her brown eyes broadened at the sight of her previously-missing friend in her brother's arms, "_She was here_! Dipper, I'm so sorr-"

"Not now!" the twin pushed his sibling out the door and past the porch, "We gotta split!"

The group ran down the walkway where their handyman friend waited by his trusty pick-up. Seeing the large crowd, Soos found himself baffled, "Whoa, dudes, what's going –"

"No time to explain, Soos!" Dipper said. "Help us put Wendy into the back of the truck!"

Without saying another word, the man-child lifted his co-worker from "her boys'" arms and tenderly set her down in the flatbed. Dipper lowered the flap and jumped in next to her. After Robbie climbed up into the vehicle, he closed the chassis behind him.

"Move! Move!" Dipper pounded on the side of the truck, prompting Mabel and Soos to jump into the front seat at break-neck speed. The engine roared as they took off down the street.

Holding Wendy's hand tightly as she rested peacefully in the tray, Dipper watched as the fire completely consumed the fallen house. The trail of smoke seemed to follow him as his friends raced back towards home. As he sunk down in exhaustion next to his beloved crush, Dipper could make out the blaring sound of sirens in the distance…

* * *

_"Dipper's Journal – Entry #622_

_More than a week has passed since we escaped from that nightmare. I think I'm ready to talk about it now…_

_It turns out that a half-hour after I entered the Lichman house, Mabel had convinced Soos to take her to the site. Together, they waited outside for hours, expecting me to come out heartbroken and empty-handed. Never in their wildest dreams did they expect me to find Wendy and Robbie there._

_While it still kind of bugs me that Mabel didn't believe me, I suppose I should be glad that she was concerned enough to hang around until whenever I was going to leave. Then again, after everything I experienced in that place, maybe it was for the best that she wasn't in there with me._

_The further we got from the house, the healthier Wendy became. As we made it to the Gravity Falls Forest to take her home, the vibrant red coloring returned to her hair, and the wrinkles faded away from her face. Unfortunately, she still was unable to speak clearly and maintain her strength for a long period of time. All the while, she silently watched my every move with a grateful gleam in her emerald eyes. _

_To me, having Wendy safe and sound like that meant more than any "thank you" could have._

_When we pulled up to the Corduroys' cabin, I helped Wendy up her porch while Robbie and the others stayed behind. As we made it halfway up the stairs, the front door opened as Manly Dan stormed out. Without saying a single word, he approached us with thunderous footsteps, making Wendy and I freeze in place. He placed his burly arms on his daughter's shoulders, prompting me to loosen my grip. A second later, the giant embraced her tightly, literally yanking her off her feet. I watched from a distance as Wendy squeezed back as tears streamed down her cheeks._

_Together, the two turned away from me as Wendy was carried into her home. Deciding to take my leave, I noticed that her youngest brother – the only person who believed me throughout this whole ordeal – stared from the front window. He gave me a nod of approval as I offered a small wave before heading back to Soos's pick-up. During the touching scene, Robbie had snuck off on his own. I expected as much from him…_

_We had also decided to keep the details of what really happened at the Lichman house solely between our small group. Wendy's friend, Nate, had said it best: if we were to go out and try to tell the world the truth behind the matter, they'd send us off to the funny farm!_

_Physically exhausted, I slept in the next morning. I didn't expect to hear from Wendy for a few days, or at least, until she recovered. Imagine my shock when I found her on our doorstep that night. Escorted by her younger brother, he explained they thought that she would felt better if she spent a few days with me; Wendy nodded along with the statement._

_While I couldn't have been happier by this surprise, something didn't seem right with this picture. _

_We spent the whole night goofing off, gouging on junk food, and watching terrible movie after terrible movie. While Wendy didn't talk much, I could tell she was having fun by her constant smiling and her adorable, contagious laughter. I didn't realize it until that night how much I loved to make her laugh. _

_Cradled arm-in-arm on Stan's old worn couch, I looked over to see that Wendy had fallen asleep. Trying my best not to disturb her, I slid out of her grasp, and carefully eased her in a lying position. I turned off the lights and TV and took the throw blanket from above the couch, tucking it around her. As she settled into comfort, I tip-toed close, and gave her a small peck on her forehead as I wished her sweet dreams._

_It was only hours later that I learned why the Corduroys were so eager to grant Wendy's request to stay here…_

_I was jolted from a sound sleep as a blood-curling scream echoed through the Mystery Shack. Instantly recognizing the shriek, I jumped from my bed and raced down the staircase as Mabel and Waddles followed at my heels. I didn't know what to think. Had some horrible monster from the Lichman house tracked Wendy here? _

_ In the parlor, Wendy was sitting up on the couch, crying and screeching at the top of her lungs. I raced to her side to see that she wasn't even awake! I held her by the arms and called out to her until she finally opened her eyes. Upon realizing where she was, Wendy immediately took a hold of me and sobbed on my shoulder. Seeing that the danger wasn't real, Mabel and Waddles returned upstairs. Luckily for us, Stan slept through all of the commotion._

_After I was able to calm Wendy, I decided to grab my bedding and set up a makeshift sleeping bed at the foot of the sofa. Several times throughout the night, I would hear Wendy jump in her sleep, only to wake up with a horrifying gasp. Shortly after, I would feel her arm on my shoulder, as if my presence reminded her that the night terrors weren't real. _

_This went on for nearly a whole week! If I could, I would do anything to take that burden from my Wendy…_

_At times, I thought about asking Wendy about her experiences at the Lichman house, but later decided against it. The way I see it, I spent only a few hours there, and nearly went mad. Poor Wendy was held against her will there for an entire week! Heaven only knows what tortures she was put through! The faster she forgets about that horrid place, the better it'll be for everyone, especially Wendy…_

_As the days passed, Wendy was able to regain her voice as well as recapture her boundless energy. We also started heading outside more often, starting with Greasy's Diner (where Wendy received a warm welcome from Lazy Susan), to aiding me in a few misadventures here and there, making sure not to get into too much trouble. I also made sure that Wendy never saw the countless flyers I had made up in her likeness nor found out about the town's lack of interest concerning her disappearance. The last thing I wanted to do was see her heart break into two, especially when she was making so much progress towards getting better. _

_Sadly, once Stan found out that Wendy was a bit more mobile, he demanded that she return to work. However, he shortened her hours and reduced her workload to ease her back into the swing of things; who would have thought that the old coot has a soft spot for her?_

_Robbie soon paid the occasional visit (where he actually treated me with a sliver of respect, much to my astonishment) to see how Wendy was doing. At first, I resented the idea. It was his fault that the incident happened, but at the same time, I wanted to do anything that would help Wendy recover, even if it meant making an allegorical deal with the gothic devil himself._

_Speaking of, I did find out why the cops never bothered to look around the Lichman place for Robbie and Wendy. It turns out that in his brilliance, Robbie had parked his van in the handicap spot the mad doctor had marked in front of his home. As was the case with several of Lichman's other victims, it was towed away a few hours after they disappeared inside of the house, eliminating any indication of their presence there. The last I heard, Robbie was still saving up to pay off all of the towing fees to get his van out of lock-up. I guess he didn't get away scot-free for causing this mess..._

_Around the same time, I saw something interesting on the front page of the Gravity Falls Gossiper. There was a full-length article on the wildfire that completely leveled the Lichman house. At first, I thought that this was going to be the only mention by the outside world. The paper had made the occurrence sound like an unfortunate accident._

_That was until the following day, when they found the bodies among the ruins._

_Countless articles were written, each detailing further in the mysterious past of Dr. Lichman: his particular field of "study," the alarming number of distances in his neck of the woods, and how so many officials left these details go unnoticed for far too long._

_I couldn't believe it. Maybe after all this time, the victims of that madman would get some sort of justice in their names. Perhaps this discovery would blow the lid off my own research, revealing that there is definitely a paranormal presence here in Gravity Falls._

_However, by the end of the week, all interests in the topic seemed to fade away. The story went from front page material to a small footnote in the last section. I guess that Lichman's influence still has some pull, even from beyond the grave._

_Even stranger, I noticed something odd when Robbie last visited Wendy here at the Shack's gift shop. His somewhat-grateful attitude had completely vanished, as I was greeted with a sneer, countless insults, and a cheap shot to the shoulder. On the other hand, Wendy had returned to her confident, super-cool, and laid-back nature, without a single hint of hesitation or uncertainty in her psyche. _

_Robbie reverting to a complete and utter jerk in exchange for Wendy being brought back to her old self? Sounds like a fair trade to me._

_Still, something didn't feel right. In both cases, it was as if the whole episode never happened in the first place. Even as I write this, I find myself becoming lost in the details of what came to pass during my stay there . I'm not sure why that is; is this one final trick of the parasites of the meteorite, or was it our own way of dealing with a severely traumatic experience? _

_I won't lie; part of me is kind of disappointed that the full truth behind the Lichman place will never be exposed, but…"_

"Hey, Dipper!"

The boy placed the journal down on his orange-covered bed and followed the shout to his window. He looked down at the ground to see Wendy behind the wheel of a Mystery Cart.

"Get a move on, kiddo!" she waved for him to come on down. "We have a whole world waiting for us!"

Dipper yelled out, "I'm on my way down!"

He returned his attention to the open page before him.

_"…but with that being said, life does have its own rewards…"_

*HONK!* *HONK!*

"Dipper! Move it or lose it!"

"I'm coming, Wendy!"

Dipper looked down at the page he just wrote, only to find himself absent-minded. He quickly sped through the chicken-scratch, unsure of where the text in his handwriting came from.

"Strange," he noted. "I don't remember writing this…" He tried his best to decipher the vague dictation. After a few seconds of effort, he simply shrugged his shoulders, closed the journal, and raced downstairs to join his redheaded crush on a new adventure.

The sun shined on the golden, six-fingered insignia of the journal marked with the number 3 while the excited, joined laughter of the two friends rang through the Oregon wilderness as they sped off into the distance together.

_August 3__rd__, 2014 – September 18__th__, 2014_


End file.
